“Mom, you really need a new car.”
I shook my head.
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
I ran my hand over the steering wheel.
Because some things are more than what they appear to be.
A diploma can be more than paper.
A night shift can be more than work.
A used car can be more than transportation.
And a sacrifice made quietly, with no promise of repayment, can travel farther than you ever imagined.
“This one still has plenty of miles left,” I told her.
Jane smiled.
Then she rested her head against the window, just as she had on graduation day.
And together, we drove home.
Not worried about tomorrow.
Not running from yesterday.
Just grateful for the road that had brought us there.
