It’s time for a road trip

I love to drive. I am a terrible passenger, in part, because I am susceptible to motion sickness. So, focusing on the road ahead keeps me comfortable.

Tim and I drove from North Carolina to Colorado in July 2018, accompanied by our furry little man, Hank. The intent was to stay for 6 weeks and figure out the right neighborhood for relocation for our next phase in life. We had already decided that Denver was our target.

When I look back at this road trip, it was indicative of who we were together.

• I wanted to get there efficiently and drive all day with a few quick overnights. Tim wanted no more than six hours in the car a day and to have a great meal in the evening.
• I planned the route and booked hotels. Tim searched on Yelp for the BEST places to eat.
• I lined up the podcasts, audio books, and satellite radio stations. Tim had a Ray Dalio book and his stock market app.
• I brought my water bottle. Tim packed a cooler because you should never be without food.
• I drove the entire 1,600 miles. Tim rode shotgun, kept me company, and never slept a wink while in the car.

• 

• 

• 

We took five days to drive the twenty-four-hour distance. It got hotter the further West we drove. We had a sweltering night in Kansas City dining with a group of great friends. We managed to find a good balance between my rules and Tim’s spontaneity. We discovered Yacht Rock radio on SiruisXM, and we even stopped at the world’s largest Van Gogh painting.

• 

• 

• 

Our six weeks in Denver was everything we hoped it would be. We got clarity. We started making real plans. As luck would have it, the day before our departure to drive back to North Carolina, we accepted an offer on the sale of our house which would free us up to move forward with our Colorado plans.

As I said, I love to drive. I am a terrible passenger, in part, because I am susceptible to motion sickness. So what’s the other part? Driving helps me feel like I am in control – of my route, my safety, my destiny.

The next time I made this drive from North Carolina to Colorado, July 17, 2019, Hank was riding shotgun. And I was questioning, am I in control of my route, my safety, my destiny? The answer – yes and no.

It was eight weeks since Tim’s death. I was already confronting the idea of acceptance. Where I am is exactly where I am supposed to be. Right? But still this was not our plan. So how do you feel in control of your destination when the route you thought you would take has been disassembled?

Keep the parts that still work. And build the rest out of the ashes. I had to figure this out. Tim and I had not fully moved out of North Carolina yet. And now, I had a house in Denver and a desire to at least spend the summer there with Hank. It took me several weeks to decide on the plan. To be honest I thought through it a lot and I had a significant amount of anxiety. But it became very clear to me that making this trip was exactly what I needed. Even though I was leaving my support system behind, I knew that my sacred journey included this road trip. Although I had a plan, a timeline and a route (because that’s how I operate), I also felt directionless. I knew that I was going to have to tackle this one day at a time.

What carried me across the country was not my Audi Q7. I believe that what carried me was my desire to fully dive into grief. I felt a deep knowing that my sacred journey was not to sit still. And it was also not to run. For right now I knew that this road trip, in the most metaphorical way, was a soul ride. What I was to learn I didn’t yet know. But I was feeling more and more ready to go all in.