Maps!

My Grandfather, Grandmother, and I love maps. We could sit for hours just staring at an atlas, talking about where they’ve been and where they wanted to go but didn’t get to. We talk about the best things to go and see and what to skip in the area.


My father, brothers, and I love to discuss architecture. We can tell each other about the inside of a building from the map inside our own heads and put the map inside the other’s head. With the use of hand gestures, of course: “And the stairway went like this...”


I think it’s also from my father that I get my internal compass. I’m sure some people could care less which way is north, but when I don’t know, it throws me off, like the way you never notice when you blink, but when you can’t, it starts to drive you crazy. When I first visited my husband’s hometown in Colorado, whenever we drove somewhere I asked with increasing frequency, “which way is North?” After a while they got annoyed with me and would only reply, “the mountains are West!” which didn’t help when I couldn’t see them.


The mountain view is blocked by a hill from my in-laws’ house, and as a result, my internal compass is completely turned around once I get inside. I think South is North, East is West, and I look very ridiculous when I am talking about going somewhere and gesture in completely the opposite direction.


So next time I ask you which way is north, I’m just trying to recalibrate my internal compass. And next time you feel like getting me (or any of my family members) a gift, don’t sit forever thinking about it. A map will always be well received.


Especially if it’s something like this: