Recently, we drove out of state to visit our daughter and son-in-law. Everything about the visit was lovely—except for the drive. My aging body no longer appreciates long car rides. But there was one shining star amidst the monotony of highway miles: the toll stations.

No more frantic searches for loose change in the glove compartment. No more awkward fumbling to hand over crumpled bills. No more trying to guess which line might move faster. With the EZ Pass, we simply breezed through. I couldn’t help but marvel at how far toll roads have come—smooth, simple, seamless.

This modern marvel brought me back to the old toll booths of yesteryear and, with it, a story a friend shared with me years ago.

My friend had led a very sheltered life growing up. She was incredibly close to her mother, never spending a single night away from home. No sleepovers, no summer camps, no adventures that didn’t end back in her own bed with her mother nearby.

Then, she went to college.

My brilliant friend was headed to Harvard, bursting with excitement about finally having some independence.

Her mother, though? Not so much. 

After tearfully dropping her daughter off at the dorm, her mother began the long drive home, sobbing, each mile pulling her farther from the daughter she’d so carefully protected.

When she reached the toll booth, her tears were still flowing. A hand reached out from the toll booth window and patted her shoulder.

“Oh, thank you!” my friend’s mother gasped. “I really needed that. You see, I just dropped off my daughter…”

Tap, tap.

The voice behind the hand interrupted her: “Ma’am, the toll. I need you to pay the toll.” 

🫤  Whoops.  

My friend’s mom needed reassurance, the toll attendant needed payment, and my friend? She needed independence.

Now, every time I use the EZ Pass, I think about that toll booth story. Thankfully, no one taps on my shoulder to ask for payment anymore. And as for my friend’s mom? She eventually let her daughter spread her wings—and even learned to laugh about the day she cried her way through a toll booth.

Life has a funny way of teaching us lessons. Maybe those toll booths are a little more symbolic than we realize. 

In the end, I think we all have our own tolls to pay—sometimes they’re physical, like long car rides or digging for change. But sometimes, the real toll is emotional, like watching someone you love take a step toward independence. 

The trick is, we have to remember that while it might be hard to pay, the toll doesn’t just take, it also leads us forward – mile by mile, step by step, and yes, sometimes with a good cry along the way. 

-Peni