Here Comes The Train

crossingToday as I was driving home, trying to avoid the 85 areas around me of road construction, I got to one of my best shortcuts home and there was a train going down the track I had to cross.

When I was growing up we had to cross this track on the way to and from my grandma and grandpa’s house. I used to silently pray for a train to go by because I loved to watch them and usually the guy in the caboose would wave at you if you hung out the window and waved at him. It was one of my favorite things.

When I said I would “silently pray” it wasn’t because I was a quiet and shy child — it watrains because my parents didn’t share my joy when there was a train. They thought of it was just a delay.

Today I thought of that and I wondered at what point did I change from the kid who loved to see a train go by — to watch in awe at one train car after another that passed by and wonder what was in those cars — to an “adult” who saw them as an impediment to my progress to wherever I was going.

Today I was in no hurry — I didn’t have to get home to do anything in particular; there were no frozen foods melting in the backseat; there was no job timing my arrival; Keifer Sutherland wasn’t waiting for me to arrive — with the exception of Daisy wanted to get out of her crate there was no rush. But there I was annoyed like the people in front and behind me. I even turned off my car since I had no idea how long I’d be there.caboose Then as I saw the final cars approaching I started my engine, looked up, and saw the guy in the caboose waving at us. I waved back and was suddenly that kid again; at least until the car behind me honked.