Life lesson: The unknown road is the hardest to travel.
The car is not packed. The suitcases are empty. There are no water toys, no inner tubes, no skis, no ball gloves or tennis rackets. The empty suitcases hold no bathing suits or golf shirts. There are no shorts or evening clothes.
There is no roadmap. The GPS can’t be programmed. The road ahead appears to be nothing. It looks like thin air out there, like the road has dissolved.
It is frightening.
There is no one to get into the car with, to share the trip.
There is no one waiting at the other end of the journey because the journey has no known destination.
There is a little dog. She is scared, too. She doesn’t know if she is going to be left behind. It has happened to her before. She is alone. She wants reassurance. She tries to be of help, to be needed. She does this by developing a new language. She hopes this human will understand her. She tells her human that it is important to develop a routine. If the same things need to be done over-and-over, at least the big scary won’t be so scary.
The big decision is whether to get out of the house and get into the car.
Is there enough courage in the entire world to do so? Is there any way courage can be bought by the pound or borrowed for a little while? Does anyone have any extra to share? Why can’t it be taken like pills or gulped down like soda?
Why are courage and fright so intertwined? Maybe if the road was a little bit visible, it wouldn’t take so much courage to begin the journey.
So I look again. It’s still invisible.
I have to step out the door and plunge into the unknown.
That’s where this journey has been traveling, through knowns and unknowns, through new roads and pathways, through fright and grief and sorrow and high points and low. It is traveling through excitement and despair, never knowing what potholes will open up to swallow the entire car and its load.
I have been traveling down it for sometime now. I have been sharing my discoveries and the emotions involved. I have tried to make sense of it all.
Have I learned anything along the way? Has there been any kind of lesson that sticks in my brain?
The journey really began when my spouse developed Dementia. It was launched in earnest when she died.
I was adrift. I had choices.
Even if I chose not to load the car to travel down some invisible road, I had the same demons to overcome if I sat in my chair and didn’t leave the house. The frightful demons just would have been of a different sort.
I opted to venture out. You can visit some of the outcomes. Some are mundane, yet basic for future travel. The boring everyday occurrences that provide bedrock for future travel.
Some provided respite and some demanded hard work.
This journey is not only my journey. It is a journey fostered on everyone. Our most important “other” in the world will die. We are all faced with the same options. It is just a matter of choice how we react and respond.
I’m heading out. Please lend me some courage, grit and determination. Please join me as you travel the same road.
Let me know how your journey is progressing. I care.
Sincerely,
Lynn Brooke
© 2023 Our New Chances
Photo Credit: © 2023 Rachel Gareau
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