Back from my road trip…
I needed to get away; from where I live, away from the multitude of “retired” people who live around me, and the stress they put upon their lives and try to push into mine. I needed to drive, listen to music, spend all day smiling without my heart feeling infringed upon or standing still. I wanted to be happy and carefree as I drove away from Wisconsin.
The road stretched forever over the flatlands of Illinois. After driving all day it was time to stop, nightfall was quickly approaching and I was still in Illinois. The small towns scattered along the way some bustling, others stood like ghosts from yesteryear. A hot tub and a swim took care of the stiffness and people watching built new characters in my mind. I had no problem with sleep as I prepared for the rest of my drive through tall, narrow Illinois.
Waking to a swim and breakfast of fruit I stared out the window at wind and rain; ahead lay an endless road and pounding windshield wipers, then suddenly the sun came through the clouds and I was in Kentucky. For a while, my thoughts reflected on my life and what route it might be taking me; I recharted my destiny and smiled with the thought of following my own dreams. The rolling hills of Kentucky and Tennessee open up my mind to my past and future.
It seems as if I have been lost my whole life within a world that I did not plan for myself and I remembered the old cliché, is this all there is? My dreams had slept for years waiting to be awakened as I collected life’s baggage and continue to question life. At times the question haunts me still, Is this all there is?
I stopped in Alabama to visit family, eat familiar foods, swim in blue waters and get back in touch with my roots; the ones that I ran from years ago. Leaving to return home, I circled back into the hills of Tennessee, lingered among the folks there and took in the smells and sights of the South. I allowed myself to enjoy the beauty of Kentucky and grand horses that grazed upon blue grasses. I somehow glided through Illinois without noticing the flatness; it was no longer boring to me.
When I reached the sign that read, Wisconsin, I knew that I was home; I love the South, but I had been gone too long. Past that Wisconsin sign the grass looked greener, the air fresher and I smiled. It took two weeks and over two-thousand miles for me to realize that I did not need a road trip to find peace and happiness, it was around me; it was the place that I had lived for years and had not really called home. Those of my age living in the village that I had considered “God’s Waiting Room” would soon turn into characters in yet another story and their aging lives would no longer impact mine, as age did not fit into my plans. I love my home, my little village; and I could already smell the wonderful scents of home baked bread coming from Saturday’s farmers market, taste the season’s vegetables.
As I pulled into my garage, I had but one thought…now it is time to get back to my dreams, the dreams that were mine. eajm