Beloved Nephew and I are doing a writing challenge for a little while, to get the creative forces moving. This is my first installment.
I’ve found myself wishing lately that I could live my life fearlessly, as I used to be able to…
To not have to worry about things constantly, to feel the constriction of anxiety wrapping itself around my chest and throat.
To be able to simply get up and go when I want to, where I want to, without fretting about how I’m going to get there, is it going to be crowded and dangerous, will I get lost, what if something does happen, then what?
I used to be able to live like that.
I sit here, shaking my head and ruefully laughing under my breath, remembering how crazy it seems now…
On a whim, I would pack up my daughters, toss overnight bags in my car, and we would drive 12 hours to Iowa.
Yes, on a whim.
We would make pit stops at the various “scenic stops” along the way, play, take pictures, get out of the car for a few minutes, chase each other around like hooligans…then back into the car, and down the road we’d go.
We always stayed with family at the other end, even if it was on a couch, or in a sleeping bag on the floor, but it didn’t matter to me, or to the girls, we all loved the away time, & getting to see Gramma, the aunts, uncles & cousins.
Visiting, I called it.
Escaping…is a little more accurate.
Luckily, gas was much cheaper back then, & my girls were happy little travelers, loving our “road trips”. They ate healthy food from relatives with as much gusto as the junk food from gas stations. And would help clean up any mess they made with our stay before we left again.
Irresponsible, some would call it.
Free-spirited, others would say.
Young…is the terminology I use.
But, I’m not so young, anymore.
Still… I live alone now… And my weekends belong to just me once again.
Maybe I need to “plan” a Fearless Weekend… And get the Hell out of Dodge.
Get in my pickup, pack an overnight bag, and drive…somewhere…other than here.
*wanders off humming to self and grinning from ear to ear*