Road Trips

 

My Room on my Road Trip
I am awake before dawn. In the small quaint bathroom that reminds me of my grandmother\’s house in the city, coffee is brewing in the Keurig. It will be bitter dosed with powdered cream. I won\’t like it, but it\’s coffee and I\’ll take it. In a couple of hours the breakfast diner will open and I\’ll order coffee with real cream there and maybe breakfast to go.
I am at a small boutique roadside inn. My second motel stay since Scott\’s been gone. This time, a scenic short road trip. 
Last night my sister called. She\’s caught the traveling bug. She wants to go the desert this Spring. She wants me to go with her. I said, of course. I let her know that I can go anywhere, anytime. I\’ve been traveling for awhile, she should pick. I\’m game for anything.
Last night, I cried in my pillow missing Scott. Last weekend at the hotel in Healdsburg, I cried too. I miss him traveling with me. 
Around lunchtime, I will set up my laptop to take my second class with Robert Moss.  When I am learning something new, when I am in a virtual classroom with fifty plus students seeking deeper meaning in the mystery of life, I am at peace. I have found my people. When I am taking a class with John Holland which I will be continuing to do so next week, I am able to laugh and have fun communicating behind the veil. When I share my dreams and signs with my sisters, listening to theirs, I know I am not alone in my connection with my loved ones here and there. I have found my tribes connected all over the world, this one and the one beyond this one and on and on it goes.
I have worked hard this past, almost four months, since Scott crossed over. I have worked hard, focused my attention, dug deep into my emotions and grieved and grieved until I was worn away. I have tried to help people along the way with their losses. I have written and shared more than I cared to so others would not feel so alone. I seek and find answers which give birth to more questions.
I will never get over my losses. They are a part of me. The people and animals who have crossed over are as alive as the soul within me who loves them. When I am around people who pretend or deny their existence, I learn to walk. Just like I would walk, if they were ignored and discounted in this life. 
Those I love will be loved, talked about, written about, and communicated with forever here, and forever there. 
And so, the road wanders. I am traveling the roads again. I have no doubt, my sister and I will find adventure and curious experiences in the desert. I look forward to our road trip this spring wherever it takes us as I live in the now as awake and connected as possible.

Published by As the Road Wanders

I am a writer and a blogger from Northern California

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