We took long drives through the most curvy roads and gorgeous views. There was no itinerary and nowhere in particular to be. There were stops in overnight cabins in the woods, cafe lunches and parks to see, trails to walk if we came across some and wanted to peruse them at the time. It was quiet, peaceful and uncrowded. Just the way I like it.
We did stop to see some friends as we traveled. One of those friends was from my husband's childhood. We hadn't seen him in 22 years or more. He'd been staying with us and then left for Colorado, and that was that. Twenty-two years and now we're all gray. I'm not sure how that happened. It didn't feel like it was that long ago. One day I'm 18 and trying to get by and the next somehow I'm 40.
The in between years were not exactly filled with joy and peace. Those were years of struggling. Of course, don't get me wrong, there were happy moments, but there were also many of turmoil, pain and healing. So much confusion from my own perspective of not knowing I was autistic, and having such a dysfunctional family always interfering with everything I did. It was like a black cloud that followed me everywhere and sabotaged all that I did. I had to recognize and break free from that, which then required healing. My husband has had some similar issues.
I am always looking for that extra piece of the puzzle, or clue on ways to be happier. How can I improve my life? Sometimes I'll get this small, little clue that will cross my path that will be too obscure to put into words. It will be more of a feeling or a gist than an action. Like one time I had to go to the hospital for a routine surgery and the way the staff interacted was a specific kind of way. I can't say it, or explain it, but I felt it and it was very positive and it clicked something inside of my brain that helped me to relate to others in that manner, too. I cannot explain it, but it changed my perception of life, and my attitude.But, this is something a tad more explainable. Being away, in such beautiful scenery, and then that final click inside of my brain was when I saw a physical representation of time. My brain went, "Wait. Stop everything." I had to fully comprehend this. I just can't handle another 22 years in Kansas. Ugh. I don't like it here. I spent the first 35 years of my life struggling and healing from so much. Look how quickly time can go by. Can I stand another 22 in a place I don't like? What if we were able to enjoy that kind of nature all the time, or at least lived close enough to it to enjoy some of the time?
I don't know. It was an awakening to something. It was a whisper of an answer to that restless feeling
