As a kid, one of my favorite family rituals was the rule about being quiet when we drove through tunnels. I don’t know who or why we started this rule, but I was adamant about everyone obeying it.
Usually, my parents would oblige. My mom would usually hush Dad up as we approached the tunnel, then I would let out a big “Shhh!” just as the light faded as we entered the dark tunnel. I got such a kick out of the silence and the darkness.
I remember one time, Dad started whispering while we were in the tunnel, just to get a rise out of me. I got really steamed but Dad tried to play Mr. Innocent, saying he was only whispering, and not really talking. I remember pouting for quite awhile that day!
I had not thought about the “tunnel rule” in ages but I was reading something recently that described Alzheimer’s as entering a tunnel that you never come out of. It is an accurate description. The disease is like a long tunnel that gets darker and darker, forcing you to stumble around lost and frightened, with no end in sight.