I have a confession to make: When I look at a large stack of firewood, I shudder. It’s alright. I don’t need a psychiatrist’s help quite yet. However, I can say that I have plenty of childhood experience in loading, unloading, stacking, and (for some reason) restacking firewood, thanks to my dad.

Each of these memories is the same. On some Sunday afternoon, my dad would tell me that it was time to get firewood. Before I could make up an excuse, we’d be in his truck driving to our firewood destination.

These drives were nothing special. My dad asked me questions about school, I tried to crack a few jokes, and both of us hummed along to the radio. Once we got there, we would load the wood up, return home, and stack our mountain of dead trees until my arms would fall off.

This happened for many years. I can’t say that I really enjoyed moving all that firewood, but I did enjoy those drives with just him and me.

Let’s fast-forward a couple of decades. I’m the father of two young girls and the days are often chaotic.

On one particularly crazy day, I offered to take our oldest with me to the hardware store so my wife could have a break. Admittedly, this wasn’t my first choice given my dream of some peace and quiet, but hey, “teamwork makes the dream work,” right?

Our drive started with lots of questions. “What are we doing, daddy? Where are we going, daddy? Is this your truck, daddy?” she repeated over and over. I began mentally preparing for the worst a toddler could bring.

However, once we got a few miles under our belts, something interesting happened.

The questions stopped, and we just started talking. We talked about the items we were going to get, the projects we would tackle “together,” and the occasional adventure going on in her own imagination. Our trip to the hardware store quickly became less about the task at hand and more about the connection I was making with her.

When we were finished, we had plenty of time to continue our conversations as I made sure to take the long way home.

It’s a bit cliché, but life does get crazy at times. But just because life gets crazy doesn’t mean that you can’t bring your loved ones along for the ride.

I don’t remember every game, performance, or vacation I spent with
my dad, but I remember those drives together to get firewood. A drive can create the perfect opportunity for some one-on-one time. Our loved ones deserve that kind of attention. And we deserve that chance to connect.

So, I’m sure at some point, the hardware store won’t be as exciting for my daughter as it is now. But that’s not the point. It’s all about her, me, and the drive.