Getting ready is getting to be a drag. I'm ready for "getting ready" to turn into "going." I look at the piles on the guest room bed and I'm reminded of my mother. All those years of schlepping kids on trips from Iowa to Oregon -- it's amazing that she kept her sanity and enjoyed it. Her piles covered the dining room table with flashlights, maps, books (their Bible, of course), towels, bedding, and more. And I won't forget the potty jar. The last evening (they always left about midnight) she added sandwiches, rolls, fruit and drinks. The stories of how they fit all those kids into the car are hilarious as my siblings tell it. That was one of our Christmas 2011 conversations and Dad loved listening and nodding.

Before children, 1940.

Honeymoon, 1940

So here's to Mom (and Dad) as I get ready to go. May my piles mirror her piles, my preparation exhibit her efficiency, and my pleasure in the memories add to the enjoyment of it all.