Holiday Traffic

Another Thanksgiving weekend. 
This year no need to fight traffic
To and from the grandmothers’ houses,
No need to spend hours circling
The parking lot at the nearest mall.
No need to go anywhere at all.

Now we are the grandparents.
Our muted celebration took place
Around our kitchen table, with
The other set of grandparents,
A daughter-in-law, a teen granddaughter
In attendance. Mostly vegetarian,

The feast also featured a small ham for
The meat eaters of the oldest generation.
We talked in pleasantries, mostly
Avoiding politics. The weather was warm
And sunny, as southern California often
Is in late November. Tomorrow, a wintry mix may

Disrupt the other grandparents’ flights
Back to the Northeast. Been there,
Done that. Especially the two winters
When Vermont was my, then our home.
The Thanksgiving before we reconnected, a blizzard
Delayed and almost sidelined Jim as he came north.

The following year, sleet and snow complicated
Our southbound journey, delaying our arrival at our elders’
House in northeast Philadelphia until nearly 4 a.m.
From a later home in Richmond, VA, we’d set out by car to see
Grandmas and Grandpas in Maryland and New Jersey,
Two growing boys sporadically squabbling in the back seat.

I watch with sometimes spiteful glee as
News clips feature clogged airports, or huge
Temporary parking lots on I-95 in both
Directions. Yes, Virginia, it can take nearly an hour
To clear the Delaware Memorial Bridge.
Still, I need to remain grateful for holiday traffic.

Nearly sixty years ago, the bus ride from Baltimore to D.C.
That usually lasted 45 minutes stretched to almost
Three times that long, giving my college-bound seat mate
And me time to thread our awkward conversation toward a
Slow-budding romance. Holiday traffic helped introduce me
To a future husband, children, grandchildren. Thanks be!