It’s been a year since the car crash.

A crash into reality.

There are people that do not care what happens to other people.

There are people that have so little love for this life that they will pull-out onto a highway and park right in front of oncoming traffic then act like it’s somebody else’s fault.

Something about being with my primary relationship. The person I am most committed too. The person I care most about after myself (that’s come from learning the better I am to me, the better I am to them). All of this is for them.

The drive we were taking.

That I drive them to to see the spring wildflowers each year because it’s more fun with someone else. That’s a lie. They no longer can do the driving part, and the walking far to see them is a challenge.

That they walked away from the car crash, be it to the waiting ambulance, was a huge relief. That I gave myself a couple minutes to have a complete break-down after they left the scene for the hospital helped immediate relieve the weight and fear of losing my mom.

When the pandemic hit we really stayed in. It was such a fear that I might get COVID, and give it to her, and she would die. So it was just the two of us in isolation for that 1st year.

Going into the 2nd year felt so uncomfortable. Not one of my favorite feelings. We were both vaccinated, and so antsy to get out.

As dueling introverts, the pandemic really wore on us. It did everybody. There were no winners, other than continuing to make it, and make this work together.

I went to therapy.

The open road calls to me. Go. Go out and take a drive. My Americana Dream. Cruising for the sake of cruising. I love to drive. I love the curving roads where we live. The mountain passes with the ocean just beyond calling to me.

I hated each trip before the car crash. The stress and anxiety. Even with therapy I would have some sort of angry outburst in frustration with nothing.

We forgot the granola bars!

I forgot to charge the camera!

Where’s the dog’s leash?!

Mamaloose Lake is not Mamaloose State Park!

These direction to the hiking trail go nowhere!!

One thing after the other. I hated it every time she mentioned a new place to go. Always farther because she had joined Facebook thanks to a gardening group, and was finding flowers to see further and further away.

When the big, yellow, mini-van taxi pulled out in front of us I knew this is what my anxiety was warning me about. I did everything I could to get around the vehicle. Seconds filled with all my will. Pulling the steering wheel begging our car to pull around this parked taxi sitting perpendicular in our lane.

To no avail.

I forced our car to angle enough that I slammed the into the taxi, leaving the passengers side from a direct impact. all I saw was yellow, while I thought in the last instant - we aren’t gonna make it.

We made it.

It’s been a year, and the flowers never looked so beautiful an bright.

The drives are freeing, and exploratory.

I love the road again. I love the going to. The getting there. the returning home.

I’m grateful for this reminder.

For a long time now my motto has been to live until I die.

I’m grateful for this place and time to record love.

If you’re reading this I’m grateful for you too. That you are here. It’s special.

For all the times I didn’t think it was special, or didn’t think this life was worth it, that I was worth it. I’m grateful to be here in our worth. Both yours and mine.

I have a playlist called ‘cruising easy breezy’, I think I’ll get up from this, and go!

Enjoy the journey. You deserve to make it one of your choosing. I will hold this vision of freedom as I take the drive of a lifetime.

With love.