Getting lost was a good thing actually…

I am not my mother’s daughter when it comes to having a good sense of direction.  I am my father’s child in that he was totally dependent on my mother’s gentle hand pointing this way or that – she didn’t say much, he just watched for her finger.  When they were cross at each other, she tucked her hand away and often as not, he would get lost.  My father trusted her so completely that when we drove straight through to Florida, he would toss her the keys when it got dark so that he could rest.  Picture for a minute Doug doing that with me….not going to happen…ever.  (It is Ok to laugh, it makes me laugh too.)

My favorite person to be in the car with is Douglas.  I get some of my very best sleep when he drives.  I have wistfully spoken to him of a road trip, just the two of us – and he teases back that it is my sleep deprivation driving that desire.  Perhaps, I just know that within minutes I am contentedly snoring and drooling in the passenger seat, bundled in a sweater, gripping my coffee cup till Doug takes it from me.

The prospect of a solitary road trip is a solemn undertaking for me.  The promise of a girls weekend filled with nothing but the BBC’s versions of Jane Austin movies, comfort food, and pajamas overrode my natural reticence for not being able to nap while traveling.

Off I went, my destination programmed into my phone’s GPS, written directions for back-up, and a somewhat hazy memory of past drives. It all went so well…for the first hour. Then while listening to the irritating voice of my GPS I turned the wrong way on a turnpike that will remain unnamed.  For 26 miles I was committed to going the wrong way cause there was no immediate exit.   For me that is reason enough to break out in hives.  I hate going the wrong way.  You see, I am so competitive  that when the GPS says that a trip should take only 3 hours and 35 minutes, I want to bring it in under that time.  It is not just a rough guide or approximation, it has become a contest to be won.   The little woman in my phone has informed me that she is “recalculating” and then suggests that I make a u-turn through the concrete barrier.  I am screaming back at her to….no, I won’t write what I said, but it got ugly between she and I.

I found myself in a small town relative to nowhere, behind schedule, frustrated beyond measure and needing to make a stop.  I hate stopping, I would rather drive straight through to anywhere, anytime.  Doug can tuck me in the passenger side and go about his merry way ’cause I am out like a light.  I  decide to not stop – I then proceed to obsess about my kidneys.  I remember being told that if you should be in a car accident and have not “stopped” your kidneys will explode.  That makes me start thinking of Justin and his accident….sigh.   I ring Doug and am as snarly as I can possibly be, he can track me on his computer using my phone as the transponder – so obviously he should be able to extract me and make this all go away.  Because not only will I have to stop now, I may have to get something to eat – I resent the time it will take to stop for that also, plus according to my schedule I should be eating food from the motherland now – not something scary on the turnpike.

I stop for a moment in a deserted parking lot and recollect.  I realize that people who live in this town must have a way to get out and that I need to recalculate my journey…..not looking at it from the standpoint of starting from a neat and tidy place in MD, but to a very different, disheveled starting point.  To stop thinking of myself as behind schedule, but on time for this part of the trip.  I turn off the annoying woman in my phone and had a Star War’s moment.  You know where Luke pushes away the computer controlled targeting device because he hears Obi-Wan in his head telling him to use the force?   I knew what direction I needed to head, I needed to be going directly East and yet I had come to presume that another voice knew the way better than I….hhmm, deep thought there, worth exploring later.  Spurred on by the encouraging text from my intended destination of the promise of a glass of wine upon my arrival,  I pitched my phone to the passenger seat and simply headed East.  I had only one other “moment”, an incorrect exit, but quickly rebounded and arrived at my destination….3 hours later than planned, but only 69 miles off expected distance.

My hosts were as good as their word and I walked in to a waiting glass of wine in a beautiful wine glass with an elegant stem and a table of wonderful treats.  Rare are the places that I am totally at ease, but the warmth and love in that home saturates the soul with goodness.  I love that there is no time spent on what I should have done, just a lot of laughter about the adventure, they help me realize that it makes for a great story and its best just to laugh, drink and wonder what is in the bakery box on the counter.   There are furry creatures to provide entertainment, no schedule, just peace, and the contentment of being with loved ones.

Reluctantly I head for home, but with full buckets, a very restorative weekend filled with enough goodness that my buckets slosh over a bit.  I take a different way home, braving the big, tall, very scary bridge and arrive home safely.  In fact,  had I not caught the light in town I would have been in under the proposed ETA.  I came home feeling that I could find my way anywhere now, that perhaps I could even volunteer to transport rescue animals from different states.  I can chose to be defined by what I fear, or by the adventure that lies beyond the fear.  Fear and anxiety are my most unwelcome, if always reliable, companions, but it is much like the GPS, do I listen to their voices or trust in something or someone bigger than they?   I fear more my world becoming a very small box, than getting lost in rural PA.  I fear more the missed glasses of wine, than I do the loss of my pride when I can’t figure out which way to turn.

I learned the absolute, unequivocal necessity of knowing exactly which direction your final destination resides.  Once I had that singular point fixed, the rest of the journey fell into place.  Justin had that gift, he wanted to teach on the collegiate level, he wanted someday to return to Franciscan to teach Computer Science, to grow the program, to share with others the great adventure of learning.   With his North Star in place, he followed his dreams.  He also had Heaven as his  final destination, and he lived accordingly with that thought always in mind.  We just did not expect that he would get there before us.

He would have thoroughly enjoyed the retelling of my driving adventure, he would have laughed and  shared one of his favorite Chesterton quotes,

An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered.  An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.
–Gilbert K. Chesterton

He shall always be our absent-minded professor, our mad scientist with that mop of unruly hair, his threadbare sweaters….we are still so lost without him.  He was in a way our own North Star, a fixed point to navigate from, all our children are like that actually.  They fix our hearts on a singular point and when that point is gone – well, there is much recalculating that needs to be done.