Sometimes, the memories we create in this life are solely unique to us as individuals. They may be very specific instances that only we remember because of this or that moment that made them special.
People who might ask us about those memories may produce a quizzical look on their face when we tell them something about a memory at face value, and only when we dig deeper does the whole picture come into crystal clear focus.
With that, let me just say that on the surface of things, I think it's pretty cool that Outlook is getting a Dairy Queen franchise. It's high time that this town move into offering those kind of globally-known and recognized amenities. Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of local restaurants and I have my certain favourite dishes that certain places specialize in, but it's long overdue that Outlook move into, well, the current age and offer the kind of products and services that can be found in other communities that are of similar size and population.
I'm not advertising and I'm not advocating. I'm just saying, 'Hey, a DQ! Cool.'
Now, having said that, I was driving home this past Friday and I was thinking about this piece of news, and that's when a realization hit me right in the face.
'Hey, Outlook getting a DQ means no more road trips to Rosetown's DQ!'
And I have to admit, that kind of hit me down low. I hadn't really thought about it until then. I kept driving, the music kept playing, but all I could really do was give my head a shake and go, 'Wow, seriously?'
Let me explain.
My family and I made a lot of Rosetown road trips to DQ over the years. It may have been a particularly boring and hum-drum Saturday afternoon at home, with no plans for the evening, so I might suggest hopping in the SUV on a Rosetown Run (TM!). Or at other times, this suggestion would come from my mom. Now, as everyone reading this probably knows, our Saskatchewan skies and landscapes look incredibly picturesque whenever the late spring or the summertime rolls around. And on a drive between our home in Conquest and Rosetown, which is about 64 km each way, you get to see a lot of open scenery on that highway.
Mom, Brendon and I would jump in the SUV and we'd be hitting the road at just the right time. We're talking 7:00 on a Saturday evening in late-May. That time when the sun has just about made its decision to finally start setting for the evening. The glow from its warm rays hitting the open fields on each side of Highway 15. The odd sighting of a deer, a fox, or maybe a coyote. Farmyards that would produce a bevy of memories from Mom, who would tell us stories of when she was a kid. On these drives, I would insist on taking the wheel because I liked seeing her like that; looking out over the Saskatchewan lands, remembering and reminiscing, and telling stories of times shared and memories made. I'll man the drive, Ma; you just sit back and enjoy the ride.
Roughly 30 minutes later, we'd arrive at the turnoff to get onto Highway 4 that leads directly into Rosetown. In the backseat, Brendon already knows what he's getting from DQ; a peanut buster parfait. That sounds all right to me, too. As for Mom, she's got a hankering for some ice cream with butterscotch topping. We arrive in town, hit the drive-thru, and within a couple of minutes, we're parked in the parking lot and enjoying our after-supper desserts. Yeah, it's not healthy food, but we don't care. It's hitting all the right spots as far as we're all concerned. I got the windows down, the radio tuned into Rosetown's AM station, and the sun is starting to set as it casts an orange glow down the Highway 7 strip alongside the main part of town. In that moment, eating our ice cream and listening to the radio and the local traffic, nothing else really matters. Not anything going on at work or what's going on at home. We're just three people, sitting in a parking lot, enjoying some ice cream just the same as the two or three other cars of people.
We'd finish up, we'd throw away our garbage, and we'd just cruise the town. We might stop in at the cemetery to give our respects to Uncle Lloyd and Aunt Verna, and Brendon would inevitably ask for me to pop in to 7/11 so he can run in really quick. Before we knew it, we were back on the highway and headed for home; the sun having set and making for an eye-grabbing image in the clouds and the evening sky getting that shade of off-blue as I turn back on Highway 15 headed east. Mom's happy, and she's content. That's all that matters tonight. Even though we've done this time and time again, it never loses its appeal and I enjoy it every single time. She has more stories as I take to the open highway. I'm all ears, Ma.
Sometimes, those drives were just never long enough.
God damn, I miss that woman more than anyone will ever possibly know.
So, my friends, when I talk about very specific memories that are unique to us as individuals, that's the kind of thing I'm talking about. I enjoyed so many evenings with my mom, cruising over to Rosetown on a DQ run. On the surface, it looked like a few people going for ice cream on a warm summer evening. Dig a little deeper, and those evenings meant so much more to me than anyone could possibly fathom. My mom taught me to appreciate and to remember the little things, and I definitely remember those nights.
When Outlook's DQ opens up shop, I hope other families start creating their own memories in some way. You never know who'll be taking those trips to heart.
For this week, that's been the Ruttle Report.
