They may come back again.
I’m born a traveler. As a three year old I remember the drive south from New York state to visit my snow-birding grandparents in Florida. We were sideswiped in Georgia. After that stay in an over-night flea bag hotel, I’ve traveled north to south, east to west through 42 states. I’ve found comfort in the road. Highlights: The Truman library in Independence, Missouri, Yellowstone’s Old Faithful Inn, InnIndependence Hall in Philadelphia,, and the Royal Hawaiian in Honolulu.
Around ten years ago things changed. Something in my brain rearranged. Click! The cause? I’m not sure. Traffic, congestion, changing lanes, speed, the uncertainly of the road freaked me out. I was hyper-vigilant I worried that anything may end my life. Ease and happiness of traveling was in my past. My present: How can I get to the store without fear.
My memories of travel are very positive. While a young child, I guided my finger through our family road atlas while dad drove from one place to another in Wyoming, and later from Oregon to southern California. Later memories are of reading Little House on the Prairie and The Lion, Witch and Wardrobe to my children while my husband drove through the Colorado Rockies. I also remember (not fondly) the arguments my husband and I had while I tried to navigate unfamiliar states (the mountains of Idaho and Missouri were especially difficult). I remember barbecue in Kansas City, Memphis, and San Antonio, frozen custard in St. Louis, and Tampa’s 1905 Salad. I remember hula pie at Duke’s, vegan in Ojai, and multiple wedding jellos in Montana.
Now days I take deep breathes while motoring to and from the Oregon coast. I pray the mercy prayer driving through the Columbia Gorge, and whisper Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, while we power up and over the scary turns of Mt. Hood. I believe that God goes ahead and behind me in my travels. And I pray.
About a month ago, while traveling through the Columbia Gorge, I fleetingly felt the euphoria I used to feel while traveling. I was, of course, very surprised. The feeling traveled through my mind swiftly. I couldn’t quite reach it, but knew I’d felt it.
This afternoon, while driving 99 toward an appointment to grandma-care for my sweet grandson, I felt that feeling again. The feeling of freedom. The feeling of gliding down the road with no care in the world. The feeling: I HAVE THIS. The euphoric feeling that I am part of a beautiful world and will be okay.
I will persevere. I will trust that God goes before and after me. I will pray.
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