Leaving in the dark

Before I fell asleep last night I was thinking about traveling to visit my great aunt.  She lived in Karlstad, a little town on the Canadian boarder.  I was sort of named after her.  She was Lisa D.  I was Lisa S. I wonder if my memories of trip to see her are what really happened or if my age at the time and time itself have confused things.

I don’t know how many trips I might have made, but it all seems like one to me. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t just one trip — but that they were similar.  We would leave while it was dark.  I would be carried from my bed in my jammies and laid out in the backseat of the car — Mom and Grandma and maybe an aunt.  Where did the aunt sit?  I suppose I didn’t take up the entire backseat.
I suspect I started thinking about this because I saw a big steel thermos while shopping yesterday and I immediately thought of Mom and Grandma having a thermos of coffee in the front seat with them.  I remember stopping to eat breakfast and changing into my clothes — but I also remember taking food along.  Was that lunch?  Once you leave the town that had breakfast, there isn’t much chance to purchase lunch before you get to Canada, so maybe we did.
I read one time that the problem with childhood memories is that they planted in our heads from the perspective of the age we were when they happened.  What a four or five year old noticed on these trips are what is stuck in my head and the pieces that would make them make sense to a 42 year old are not — like why on earth did we leave so early?
But there I was walking through the store, and I spotted the thermos and I thought of heading for Karlstad in the dark.
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