By Debbi Lynn
Available November 15, 2020
Check back for links to sellers.
She was an aging hourglass with sand running out. Was there enough time left to turn the glass, solve her problems, and make a positive impact on the life of her son?
She wondered, “Would this 3-month journey facilitate a new beginning? This road trip might just be a lot of driving, eating at mediocre cafes and buying t-shirts and city-named memorabilia. Was I just biding time? Was I simply running from the past only to re-live it again in the future? The road of transition between the past and the future is a steep winding rocky path that, regardless of how hard the climb is, might still lead back to the beginning.”
Her son was often called an old soul—intelligent, clever, and funny but it came with a weight attached. Besides witnessing a contentious divorce most of his young life, he was diagnosed with ADD when he was two and a half years old.
She had her own anchors, having been through decades of trauma and tragedy and was left with anxiety issues including panic attacks that put her in the ER more than once.
Were they just a pair of broken misfits or could some time alone begin to heal wounds and put them on a better path?
As the days of the journey pass, old trauma and unresolved issues unfold as the faces of her anger and anxiety are recognized in the owners of sad and redundant roadside tourist attractions, unpleasant motel managers with suspicious looks and variable room rates, a Detroit motel with a bomb threat, and a crazy trucker that tried to drive them off the road in Nebraska. Yet, on those same backroads through small towns and big cities, were moments of laughter and joy.
As an earthquake in the Ridgecrest sequence on the last day of the journey shook her out of bed, she decided to consider it more synchronicity, a sign that there is much to learn and a lot to smile about when you step out of your head and participate in life with absolute strangers. There is life thriving in a dark Louisiana swamp, in the observation of freedom from minimally clothed locals cooling in fountains in Chicago, in feeling the joy of an old woman playing bluegrass music on the dulcimer in Galax, Virginia, in chatting with traveling gospel singers about gem hunting in the Southwest, in breathing in the Hopi spirit while gazing over the Mesa Verde valley, and observing the resiliency of a hurricane-battered shoreline in Sopchoppy, Florida.