Another road closure forced me to reroute through Idaho instead of exiting Yellowstone’s south gate into Grand Teton National Park. I spent the night in the least offensive looking motel I could find and studied the map to plan the way to Jackson Hole in the morning.

While I was figuring out the new best route, I was reminded that traveling isn’t easy. There are starts and stops and detours to slow you down or take you off in a completely different direction. It never goes exactly as planned, so be prepared to embrace the unpredictability and improvise.

“Life is what happens while you’re making other plans.” – John Lennon

I’ve had a great deal of practice with that during the past few years. Absolutely nothing has gone according to plan and I’ve had to learn to adapt. I tried to enjoy the road I was on, contemplating all kinds of creative ways to get Robert out of his slump and continue a happy life with him. Problem was, I didn’t have a willing participant.

When it became clear that his days as a surgeon were over, I suggested we take off for a year in France or Italy. I’d study language and he could take cooking classes. He was already an excellent chef and I thought this would appeal to him and refocus our future. “Let’s have an adventure!”  

My proposal was refused with a flat-out “no!”

He was so absorbed with his disability, his doctors, and his medications that what he couldn’t do completely eclipsed what he could. Our needs as a couple became non-existent. He was either withdrawn or angry. I was heartbroken, as my Robert had disappeared.

I thought he would show up again once he realized this attitude didn’t serve him. Go to therapy, PT, learn bridge—do something! That an “I can beat this!” attitude would appear and he would adapt and take action.  Do whatever was necessary to get as well as he could and restore confidence and happiness to his life–and ours.

That’s what I would do,

but no matter what I suggested or tried, things only got worse.

I waited for months.

I waited for years.

If I waited any longer and continued to live my life his way, I would disappear down the rabbit hole right along with him. I was already on the descent.

We must not be wired the same way. He seems to disconnect, become rigid and angry.  I’m the opposite.  If I want something bad enough, I take action.  Do whatever is necessary to get it done or make it happen–regardless of inconvenience, pain, or investment.

Focusing on why I’m doing what I’m doing, makes what I have to do to attain it become matter of fact. Initially, I may make excuses or feel sorry for myself, but that doesn’t last forever. I’ve learned to ditch the victim mentality, become the victor, embrace my inner Nike* and

just do it.

The radio was playing a symphony as I reached the crest of a hill; the cymbals crashed right on cue and the Grand Tetons appeared in the distance. I had to laugh. It was another “OMG! moment” getting me out of the car to pay homage and let me know I was on the right path.

I drove through Jackson and straight to the park. I couldn’t wait to see those Tetons up close and personal. Picturesque vignettes were all along the route–frozen lakes surrounded by snow-covered pines reminiscent of Hallmark Christmas cards–and those mountains! Almost uniform in their silhouette and contour, they were mesmerizing.

My evening in Jackson included a walk around town and a movie. Peering into shop windows and then sitting in the dark watching Tom Hanks and Emma Watson in The Circle was a strange departure from the activities of my past few days. I felt as if I’d entered an alternate universe, completely out of sync. Hitting the road in the morning was a far more familiar reality.

How had that happened so quickly?

It hadn’t even been a week since leaving Chicago and already it seemed like a different life. Either I was very adaptable or I was really ready for this trip. Probably a combination of both.

I thought I would spend a little time in Salt Lake City, but it too seemed like another planet. I don’t even think the full hour was used up on my parking meter before I was on the road again. Yes, it was lovely and the architecture was diverse and interesting, but the pristine environment seemed over-calculated. I longed for the handiwork of Mother Nature.

Fortunately, I got it right away. The Great Salt Lake really is great and the Great Salt Lake Desert completely unexpected. Bonneville Flats Speedway is only a tiny portion of it, I had no idea how enormous and unusual looking the rest of it was. Of course, the size is quite obvious if you look at a map, but—true confession–I’d never paid much attention to Utah before. Oops.

Nevada was not nearly as bleak, more of a living desert…complete with tumbleweed and cactus. I drove on as far as I could before tiring and wound up in a ticky-tacky little town off the highway loaded with casinos. After all, it was Nevada.

California, here I come!

I awoke the next morning knowing this would be my last day before reaching Oakland.   My feelings were mixed. I was really looking forward to seeing the girls and beginning a new chapter of my life, but I hadn’t expected to enjoy getting there quite so much.

My last cross-country drive had been with Robert to our home in Palm Desert. Maybe spending more time there would improve things? Although Europe hadn’t qualified, the desert boasted of Eisenhower Medical Center, which seemed to meet his criteria.  Not quite the adventure I had hoped for, but at least a start.  I knew I would be the one doing the heavy lifting and maneuvering on the road, and I was okay with that, but his impatience and resentment made it difficult.

We drove by way of Denver to see friends and then down through Arizona to the Grand Canyon. It was fun  to see them and a beautiful drive, but by the time Robert and I arrived at the canyon, I was hoping he would fall in…

By comparison, this trip was liberating. Silence and independence made me acutely aware of what I was seeing, feeling, and thinking. Having downloaded audio books and uploaded my playlist in preparation for hours alone, I was surprised how seldom I turned them on. The solitude was therapeutic, never lonely.

Go ask Alice

By definition, change requires that you “make or become different” and/or “substitute or replace something”. All of that has been happening to me slowly but surely for the past few years, but it was loading up the car and heading west that reinforced the shift. My own personal “OMG!” moment.

“I could tell you my adventures—beginning from this morning,” said Alice a little timidly; “but it’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”- Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass

I know exactly how she feels.

“Where are you, Mom?”

“I’m just passing the zoo on the way up the hill.”

“My hill? You are! We have to get ready for you!” She hung up.

I arrived at the house a few minutes later, punched the code into the keypad and waited for the gate to open. It was dark out and at first, all I could see before me were fireworks in the driveway. As I drove in, the girls appeared in the firelight, yelling and jumping and waving their arms.

“Hooray, hooray, you’re here, you’re here!”

The perfect way to celebrate the end of one journey and the beginning of another.

 

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 *Nike, the goddess of victory