Ten years ago Benjamin was assigned to a school forty minutes away. Previously I had been shuffling him to one ten minutes closer, but this added distance felt like too much, especially since it fell on a congested portion of the turnpike during rush hour. I complained to faceless administrators who were dealing with five hundred students and their ornery parents.  

There was no sympathy forthcoming. So I resentfully buckled up the twins and Ben every morning for six weeks. But I was primed for a different solution. A friend heard about my situation and mentioned that there was a school for children with autism much closer. As in one mile from my door. I was on it like a car dealer one buyer short for salesman of the month. The secretary said she had never seen such a motivated mother. 

Ben went there for a few years and my stress level went down with the commute, not that he didn't find ways to make even that trip difficult. One time he changed gears while I was driving. Then I moved him to the back and he sometimes kicked my seat. 

Now he takes a bus. Exhale. 

The other day the twins wanted to go to a store I had never been to, and we headed out. Part way there I realized. This was the exact route I had taken all those years ago. It was familiar. Only now Ben was not in the car, and the twins were no longer in car seats. They are beautiful young girls hoping to decorate their room. Somehow the time travel in my mind lifted me. 

Things change. 

What is more, the less than ideal segments of my past can actually come in handy getting where I want to go now.

Love, 

Lori