Perhaps the most iconic emblem of Americana is the nostalgic and, at one time, singularly essential stretch of highway known as Route 66. Known universally as the “Mother Road,” I often wondered how this namesake came to be. In bucket-list ambition, I recently made the journey on what remains of this legendary commute (for all you Thomas Guide navigation junkies out there, we took I-40 from California to Arizona, the longest existing remnant). After putting in the miles, I reflected on what a fitting title this road had earned, to be a symbol of maternal strength and source of connection across so many states and recognizable worldwide. This was a highway that uniquely connected the nation at a time when transportation options still remained scarce and the idea of going long-distance in that newfangled automobile was just picking up speed. Now my hybrid vehicle only needed filled up once along the way—how far this road had come!
In making this journey with my trusty sidekick, my own mother, the road’s moniker became even more aligned to this idea. As the odometer ticked on, I thought of the similarities between my earthly mama and heavenly one (both named Mary as it turns out). These formidable women were always bringing together—across all landscapes and terrain—even the bumpy and rocky parts, shining as timeless and classic as a Cadillac. I think of the warmth of motherly hospitality ready to welcome strangers rolling in at any time. This is evidenced by the retro diners and shops still lining the roadway, reminiscent of a dusty neon welcome one would have received long ago in the heyday of this commute—ready to top off your tank and fill your tummy with a “famous cheeseburger with cheese” or “dead chicken” (the daily specials at SnowCap Drive-In since 1953).
With the wit and whimsy of the colorful gimmicks, goofy road signs, and celebratory attitude of those who still greet visitors coming through (I mean, what could bring more of a smile than a fiberglass cartoon figure randomly placed by the side of the road?!), I reflected on the joy at a mother delighting in her children in an atmosphere of joy, laughter, and mirth as we grow and thrive. And with the long stretches when legs start to cramp and the desert looks endless, I call to mind the unwavering patience and grace of the steady guidance of maternal wisdom that encourages you through to the next stop on the journey and reminds you to pause and stretch along the way.
On our own earthly journey, how blessed we are to have those around us, especially the mothers and mother-figures in our midst, our Blessed Mother most of all: observant and honest when we may need a tune up, admonishing if we we’re going too fast, polishing up scrapes and scratches incurred along the way, and courageously paving a foundation of love and grace that is lasting and true, even when it feels we are stuck in the middle of nowhere. We hear often that Mary is always turning us to her Son, drawing us closer to our ultimate destination in His presence and love. There is something reassuring about this, returning to the focus and staying on the road that links us always to Him. No matter how off course or lost we may seem to be, there is always a way, and our Mother helps us get back on track. So sure, go ahead and “get your kicks on Route 66,” but remember to always give thanks to your (and my) dear mothers, both here and above—stay on the Mother Road, and she’ll see you through.
