My father lived in Southern Oregon, and my mother (plus my sisters) lived in the Columbia River Gorge. So, every holiday season, my dad would drive us from our house in the southern part of the state to a neutral location to "trade" my brother and I.
There were two places I remember meeting for the trade off. One was in Salem, off I-5 at the Market Street exit. At the time, the exits put you on Hawthorne St. The southbound exit dropped you off right at the Denny's there. (This Denny's was torn down in the early 1990's when the off ramps were redone.) I vividly remember pressing my nose to the glass of the car window, searching for my first glimpse of my mom or her car. Then my brother and I would scream and clap and generally drive my dad insane for the next 5 minutes while he got a parking spot.
I don't remember meeting my dad there for his pick ups. We seemed to always get dropped off at my Grandmother's house outside of Sutherlin. Again, I remember sitting in the back of my mom's car, my nose pressed to the window while I examined everything in my Grandmother's neighborhood, making sure nothing drastic changed while I had been away. Again, the same routine would happen, my brother and I would scream and clap and wiggle until the car was parked and the doors were open.
The early trades were mostly done with terse words between my parents. But that seems to be normal for divorced couples. That's not what I what I am writing this about though.
I'm writing this because of the landmarks that, to this day, make my blood pound and my heart race with expectation. Specifically, Enchanted Forest.
I don't recall visiting the Enchanted Forest as a small child. I remember seeing the sign, with two castle towers and Humpty Dumpty sitting between them, on every trip north. Before my parents were divorced, it was a symbol that we were going to be stopping for a bathroom/run around and scream break. (These breaks usually happened at the Lancaster Mall. I remember my brother having some kind of incident there when he was very young. I think he was running up and down the stairs and fell? I honestly can't remember.) After the divorce, it was a sign that we were ALMOST THERE and that soon we'd be hugging our mother.
I don't know if my brother has these same memories of these signs but every time I would see Humpty, sitting between the towers, I would start breathing faster and looking around. (I will also admit that for a very long time I thought that everyone in Salem lived in the manufactured homes that you can see just after you drive past the Enchanted Forest exit.)
Now, I drive by the Enchanted Forest exit every day. For the last 11 years, if you were driving to my house via I-5, you would take that exit to go to Aumsville. (If you knew your way around.) I never saw the Enchanted Forest sign during those years, since I worked to the east of my house and almost never drove northbound on I-5.
In October, we moved back to Salem and now live close to that manufactured home park that I thought housed all of Salem. I know the name of it and I have driven it's streets. I take the next exit after Enchanted Forest to get to my house.
Now my heart races and my blood pounds because I know I will soon be home when I see Humpty Dumpty. I see him almost every day and I still get excited, not press your nose against the glass excited, but it still brings a smile to my face knowing that I will soon be hugging my husband and cuddling my cats. Even on my worst days, Humpty is a beacon of home and welcome.
