When Dad drives his children anywhere, he always says he’s carrying precious cargo. Precious cargo. I’ve known since I was very small, that was just a synonym for people I love.
For the first time, I drove down south to pick my little sister up from school. It was a long drive, made shorter on the return trip by having her in it.
It’s been a long time coming, but I’m beginning to understand precious cargo better. It’s too many letters to just be people I love, too many syllables. It’s slowly unfolding: people I love to hold, people I love to carry…
The Wednesday Serial will return next week, when I don’t spend eight hours in the car bringing someone home.
And have you heard about my book giveaway?