The best road trips are the ones that lead us to our simplest memories.

Family road trip, circa 1966.

Our car is packed, looks like a bicycle and stroller are also strapped to the roof. Two large plaid suitcases, and possibly a child’s playpen, fill the back of the wagon. A wooden birdhouse is strapped to the roof.

That’s me in my father’s arms. We were living in Jacksonville, FL at the time. I believe this stereo transparency was taken by my grandfather at their house in Woonsocket, RI. It must have been a long road trip down the east coast with three young kids!

We look like your classic, average American family. Dad was in the Navy and mom had her hands full raising us kids. They both worked hard and believed, after time, their hard work would pay off. Mom balanced the checkbook and any item purchased was carefully considered. We lived quite frugally, but eventually things did get easier.

One of the sweetest things my father has said about my mother passing away so young (age 42), is that it’s too bad she wasn’t able to enjoy the fruits of their labor. They were a team and they had a life plan together, but the game changed. And although she passed away young, I know she passed away proud of her accomplishments, which I imagine is comforting in the end.

~shared by @lauralakeway