A long drive out on Burlington Road

                                                             Kevin Botterman photo

I'm at an age when simple tasks spark memories of past experiences and events, some important, others routine, some that were painful, but many more that were pleasant, and well, memorable to me. 

I recently enjoyed one of those moments, while driving out on Burlington Road, a county highway that I once frequently traveled nearly a decade ago, but seldom have reason to use in recent years. On this occasion, I was driving to meet friends from my days at college, including one I had not seen in nearly 40 years. 

The view from the driver's seat on this outing was much the same as he had been years ago. Farms still dominated the countryside, along with a few private residences, and a county highway garage. Much of what I could see was exactly what was in place years before, back when I drove Burlington Road twice a week, on Wednesdays, and twice a weekend, two weekends each month. 

That was the visitation schedule I followed for more than 14 years in order to spend time with my daughter. Burlington Road was the main county highway connecting my home in Batavia to her's in Hampshire, and I drove that road year-round, in all types of weather conditions, frequently alone, but sometimes with my daughter. It was, on average, a 40-minute drive, one-way. 

I thought about those drives as I drove to meet my college friends. And memories of my college days mingled with memories of many car rides with my daughter and the conversations I shared with her. 

I was reminded that I am blessed with a happy and positive relationship with my daughter, who is now an adult, well along in her career, satisfied in her chosen profession. I remembered that nearly all of our time together was pleasant and enjoyable, minus some exchanges during her early teen years. 

And I was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude that during all of the miles traveled, during all the hours in our car, my daughter and I never experienced a serious accident or mishap. That alone was a great blessing, and I offer thanks for that.

During those years, I was often sad and reflective while making the return drive home alone, partly because I was already missing my daughter, but mostly because I knew it would be days, perhaps a week before I would see her again. 

Still, I recall always feeling grateful for the time I had shared with my daughter as we drove back and forth from her home to mine, out on Burlington Road.  

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