I\’m on the road with my two backpacks.
I didn\’t plan on leaving this early, on foot. It\’s time to go on my adventure. I need to clear my head and move forward without relying on family and friends for support. I need to find my way by myself.
I\’m fifty-five years old, my soulmate and best friend died of a sudden massive heart attack almost four months ago.
Last night, I had a dream, that Scott picked me up and took me on a trip somewhere. I don\’t know where we were going.
I don\’t know where I am going as I write this post. I do know Scott is with me in spirit.
Walking to check into my first motel on this journey, I felt alone and sad. I grieved for what was and will never be.
Along the way, my backpack was so heavy, that I found myself discarding bits and pieces of my life I\’ve collected this last four months reminding me of Cheryl Strayed writing about \”Monster\” her backpack she carried like a turtle on her back in her best selling book Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail.
How did I know I would be doing the same thing, only I would be much older and walking city streets leaving gifts like bread crumbs behind me. Only there is no one following me, to rescue me. I am the one that will need to rescue myself.
I smile thinking of the people who will find a brand new sketch book, a book called \”The Intuitive Way\”, a heavy burgundy sweater that Scott picked out for me at Cabellas, and the expensive facial cream in the fancy packaging that was weighing too heavy in my pack.
This evening, I will research modes of transportation to start the first leg of this journey. Rental car? Train? Bus? Feet? Plane?
I have no idea where this journey is taking me or how long I will be traveling.
I have no answers. I will dream on it. And do my research.
Tonight, there is an inviting Mexican Restaurant across the street with tables outside. From there, who knows.