The One that got Away~TheBridge part 4

Two days earlier north Texas had received a record smashing 12.2 inches of snow. Naturally we needed to go to town. I had asked Luke, my 19 year old, to drive me in his 4 wheel drive Jeep. (He didn't trust his mother to drive his Jeep.)

Our farm to market road was dangerous. We needed the 4 wheel drive.

It was morning; the sun amazingly bright. Our usually busy road was quiet. No traffic all morning.

As we made our way to town Luke slowed to a crawl. Our little bridge was iced over. Not just iced over, but one solid sheet. Another two hundred yards and we would reach the safety of a well sanded state highway 114. As Luke slid across the bridge I spied yet another perfect shot. Our creek, more like a small river, had been transformed! It glowed in iridescent glory. With no hesitation I screamed, STOP!!!, scaring my 19 year old half to death. He hit the brakes hard and in doing so caused the red Jeep to complete a precise 180.

" What the Hell?!!!" my boy shouted at me. Surely my highly creative son could see what I was taking in. "I have to get this , Luke."

This was code in my family for "I see a picture." Again from Luke,"What?!!" My Taurus born son, usually so mild, was filled with rage. I had found years ago when the Bull in this boy was unleashed, it best to remain calm. To hide in the eye of his storm. These squalls were normally short lived. I allowed him to rant until he was spent. "Luke, I just want to take a picture of the creek," I calmly explained. "It'll only take a sec." As I opened the Jeep door, he grabbed my arm. "No Mom, you can't. I won't let you. I will not sit in this Jeep on an icy bridge. A bridge which is at the end of a blind curve. I'm not gonna have my Jeep totaled by a truck that can't stop. Not because of some stupid picture. Lastly, you are about one more header from the home." His last statement referring to a fall I had taken from a running horse, landing me squarely on the back of my neck and head. We both understood what " the home " meant. "I won't let you attempt to skate across this ice only to fall off the icy edge of this bridge. Mom, it's at least a 30 foot drop. No."

With that he ground gears until he found first, caught traction and we were gone.

It slowly began to dawn on me we had reversed roles. Suddenly I had become the child, he the adult. How had this happened?

Luke was right. I was ready to put us both in a potentially dangerous situation just to take a picture.

We made our way across the bridge to the safety of 114. Thanks to sand and the overtime the city's road crew had put in, the state highway was in excellent condition.

Luke pulled in to the IGA parking lot, once again fighting the ice. The grocery had not bothered to sand or salt the walks or lot. Finally he slid to a stop and killed the engine.

"I don't mind going in." We both understood this needed to be a solo run. We needed time apart. I dug in my coat pocket until I found the list. " Thanks, Luke.

"No problem." With that he slammed the door, disappearing in to the store.

I didn't mind waiting in the Jeep. This afforded me the time to replay the incident on the bridge. Time to try to understand my insistence, the sheer passion I experienced over that imagined shot.

These questions would take longer to answer than any grocery run. It was, however, a start.

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