The Open Road

My two week vacation… The luggage was packed, the bottled water sat in the front of the car awaiting the next step. So I got into the car, added the seat belt across my body and turned the key. Yes, it was time to turn out onto the freeway and head into traffic once again.

I love to drive… To get behind the wheel and roll across the land, like I’m some warrior princess who needs to conquer a new world. When I left home I was so happy to be gone and heading East on I-40 that I pulled off the freeway and cried right out loud. It’s always so beautiful… The scenery, the open air, the sky just like a canvas that carried me to the next adventure. Even after the tears were dried, it took a while to calm down and drive like it wasn’t the first trip I’d ever taken behind the wheel.

No, it wasn’t the first trip… That was years ago when, I was twenty-one years old and driving a little VW Bug from Arizona to Ohio, where I was invited to come and live and marry a young Ohio man. Twenty-one thousand miles. I had no fear… two young and dumb to be afraid. With nearly everything I owned piled into the back of that car, I struck out to start my new life with soon-to-be Hubby. And, while we made a good life, even now I still love to strike out in some well oiled vehicle, to travel and drive my car!

I meet wonderful people wherever I stop along the way on my trips. Just before I left the state of Arizona this recent trip, I pulled off the road to gas up the SUV once again. It was a truck stop that’s been outside of Winslow, Arizona for a very long time. The gas pumps didn’t work all that great; so when my pump needed a nudge from an attendant, someone was out there to help as soon as the problem presented itself… He was a nice man with a broad smile who just wanted me to get what I needed. (“So everything’s okay now? These old pumps don’t always deliver without a punch in the side.” With that, he left me to fill my tank.) So I’m just standing there gassing my steed and up pops a good looking Latino man grinning ear to ear. And, out of the blue we’re discussing his wife’s vehicle which happens to be the same as mine… It was clear he loved his wife as he told me the story of working to buy her this very same vehicle which she herself picked out and loved. Nice people, each time I head out on a long trip. They’re either saving my bacon or making polite kind conversation.

There is one trip that was not filled with the afore said. We all know not to drive when we’re upset and that’s an important statement. But I recall a few years ago when I needed to find peace, and peace was hard to come by. My mother’s Christmas visit had quickly become a very necessary and permanent stay. This alone was so frustrating for Mom, and she felt so betrayed by her doctors, who told her eldest daughter that “living alone in her own home was no longer an option.” My mother was going to have to leave the last home that she shared with my dad.

One health issue after another attacked Mom’s tiny frame until one night, after she went to bed and was sleeping soundly, I found myself getting no sleep at all. I tossed and turned; and after praying away my problems at three in the morning, I at last climbed out of bed, slipped into my Levi jeans, sweatshirt and tennies… I grabbed those car keys and at three in the morning without telling anyone I revved up my ole buddy and hit the open road.

I drove with no radio, with nothing on my mind but the open road and the stars above me, for maybe an hour. There was no hurry, most cars passed me. Down one block and then another, then around the corner and out onto the freeway for a while. It was good to drive; I could just feel the road and not be responsible for every issue that wasn’t going well. (I hadn’t wanted my mother’s life to go the way it did, and I was the only one around who was going to help her. She needed someone who loved her very much, to whom she could get mad and rail when the world was handing her a bum deal. Truly, she needed someone to help her finish her life and she was not liking it at all. So I did the best I could with my mouth shut and my arms open to her. Isn’t that what you’d do?)

At last I was back in the garage and climbing down from my steed. The ride was over and had done it’s job. I was relaxed and pretty sure I’d nod off as soon as my head hit the pillow. No one even knew I was gone from our house, and ya know what? Every time I ride off into the sunset for one more vacation, I bet I think of my mom, her pain, and that moon lit jaunt at least once during my road trip.

So here’s to road warriors who ride into the sinking sun (or away from it)!
May your rides keep you relaxed and easy when life is dishing you the dirt.

Best… Carolyn Thomas Temple

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