journey

The roadway was drenched as torrents of rain descended and the sound of the wipers working frantically to brush the water aside seemed to add to the tightening tension of this Parkinson’s possessing grandpa driving the rental truck in northeast Florida. Four gracious fellows had taken less than two hours to load the truck that morning and we began our journey well before Noon. Eight hours later we were in north Georgia and ready for some replenishing sleep before completing the second leg of the 835 mile journey. Arrival at the farm was a blessing and a relief. The truck was soon unloaded and Father’s Day was blessed with a family cookout and a near collapse onto the bed for a thankful night’s sleep. An early rise filled the air with anticipation of my daughter’s arrival that was anticipated that evening. Soon, she would arrive with her cargo in tow and make this week long preparation and journey toward broader family relocation a reality. Gracie, fraught with puppies and slow of movement, began to pant and moan. Puppy number one showed her face and thus began the evening’s journey of little sleep and extended sounds of puppy whines and mommy moans as one after another after another began to make its appearance. With daughter and family welcomed, fed and relieved to have safely made the journey, the humans all retired for a restful night’s sleep. At seven the next morning, eleven of nature’s blessings had arrived and were eagerly seeking the nipple of triumph for which each had to wait its turn. This sleep deprived possessor of Parkinson’s was filled with gratitude as prayers of thankfulness were offered for the miracles that the last forty eight hours had wrought. Now seven more of the human family is closer by to visit with and share love and eleven more beautiful Golden Retrievers begin their journey of growth in preparation for their “forever” homes! I was reminded that even tired old codgers find renewal in new life and new adventures!

I recall the shared wisdom from childhood that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. It is so very reasonable, yet along life’s path I have rarely experienced a straight line. The drive along the Blue Ridge Parkway in the mountains of North Carolina takes one from point “A” to point “B” but rarely does it do so in a straight line. Aside from the virtual impossibility of a straight trek, the thrill of the journey might well be diminished if curved ascents and descents were eliminated. I have discovered that life is experienced in much the same way. Straight lines have seldom been undertaken, even when planned. There seems to have always been some unexpected hill or valley to negotiate, sometimes taking me seemingly far from the goal. Often, upon having the goal in sight, I discovered it did not even resemble what was originally envisioned. What I have learned these few years along the path of life is that the richness of the journey often renders the destination point far more illuminated than when the travel began. A few stumped toes along the path have given a new respect for the how important feet are on the road. Letting go of the fascination with the destination allows the joy of the journey to be fulfilled.

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