the open road awaits

It has been nearly seven months since I have been on the open road, alone. And I wouldn’t exactly call that a road trip, more a means to an end, a necessity in order to get to my uncle’s funeral. And it was literally a three-hour drive, a funeral and brief mourning with family, then a three-hour drive back home. Before that, it was a couple months and a rushed trip home for my Papa C’s birthday and an early holiday celebration. And a few weeks before that, the same three-hour trip as my last, only that one was to visit my best friend and her newborn daughter in the hospital. So my point is that it has been ages since I have taken a road trip anywhere alone, for purely enjoyable and relaxing purposes. All of my ventures in the past year have had a set purpose, an agenda, and a lacking of that blissful freedom that accompanies a journey when only excitement and the open road lay ahead.

Tomorrow morning I will embark on such a trip. With my departure time set for 5 a.m., I am looking forward to seven hours on that open road. Seven hours of music and singing, windows open to breathe in the gusts of fresh air as I escape the city and head south toward the bayou. By noon, I will have entered a new time zone, a new state, and the welcome of a new adventure.

More than a decade has passed since I first met the women with whom I will be sharing this weekend of fun and relaxation. We were barely teenagers at that time, only beginning to find our identities in a world overflowing with chaos and adolescent angst. It was in the company of one another that we spent those formative years. We shared the experience of first loves, first heartaches, first drinks, and first road trips. The years have certainly changed us all since those days of drinking cheap wine in paper cups in the back of someone’s car and skipping classes to spend days of oblivion on muddy Georgia beaches. But despite the changes and the distance that have accompanied all these years, some things have not changed. I sit here today with the same eager anticipation and excitement that we felt at the age of fifteen when we left for a camping trip at the lake. And no doubt we will share many glasses of wine this weekend, though I imagine we’ll be sitting in a bar or our hotel room this time. The conversations will flow as they always have, talk of weddings and graduate degrees and the anticipation of babies replacing our old gossip of how to buy alcohol and which classes could be skipped without getting caught. The past decade has seen us through high school and college and graduate school graduations. The decade has witnessed marriage and divorce, births and deaths. But more than all of the millions of changes, the past decade has honored an unconditional and eternal love between girlfriends, a love that continues to last beyond all the ups and downs of the passing years.

Our paths have led us in various directions, professionally and geographically. Two of us are still in graduate school, a doctorate in psychology for me and law school for K. One has her masters degree in education and works as a teacher while another spends her days in surgery. Both of them remain on the island that brought us together all those years ago. One has been married for over six years now and my own divorce is now nearing its three-year anniversary. And one is preparing for her own marriage at the end of this month. She is the reason for this trip, the one who has brought us together again for a weekend that will no doubt, be a testament to these oldest and best of friendships.

And so it is time to stop writing now, stop reminiscing for the moment, and pack my bags. Tomorrow morning will arrive early and the open road awaits.

summer nights of freedom

Tonight is the perfect summer night. The air is still, but not too heavy, warm but not suffocating. My love and I took the pups for a long walk around the neighborhood tonight and for a while, life just felt good. We stopped and talked with neighbors and laughed as Dakota pulled me in abstract patterns across the sidewalk, into the grass, and then back again. It was a quiet night, so different from last night, and yet both nights were filled with a sense of innocence and freedom.

This was one of the first years that I was not particularly looking forward to the 4th of July. It has always been a big holiday with my family, all of us spending the day lounging on the beach, then grilling out and enjoying a casual dinner poolside before heading to the village to see the fireworks over the ocean. As the years have passed and we all have aged, the tradition has become altered a bit. It has been many years now since all of us celebrated together on the island. But in every previous year, there was at least a majority. This year was different.

My family is now split between the island and the city. While my parents and grandparents and one aunt and uncle still enjoy the island life on a daily basis, the rest of us spend our days making lengthy commutes and dreaming of our next vacation back home. With hectic work schedules and limited time, there was no hope for an island celebration this 4th of July. In fact, life has been so busy that the holiday was not really even discussed at length until Tuesday. And yet somehow, we managed to make it one of the best ever. Of course there was the lingering nostalgia for age-old tradition, but we planned a spontaneous last-minute soiree and enjoyed the day in a new way.

The weather was beautiful, hot and sunny but not unbearable as it often is this time of year. After a bit of early morning yard work, my sister arrived, fully stocked for a day at the pool. With full coolers, colorful towels, water toys, and a load of books and magazines, the afternoon was spent lounging in the sun with family and friends. By late afternoon, we headed to my sister’s house for a barbeque and more friends joined us to celebrate. Good food (including my lopsided cake…which is impressive if you know me and my cooking skills), good company, and lots of laughter left us exhausted but blissful by the end of the night. As we danced through the backyard with sparklers, we watched the night sky light up with fireworks in every direction.

Though the day was not a replica of our yearly tradition, it was certainly a day that will long be remembered. And even though the fireworks weren’t quite as bright or quite as loud or quite as impressive, the company and the food and the sparklers more than made up for any potential disappointment. It was truly a day of freedom, not just in celebration of our country but in celebration of ourselves as well.

Now the time is getting late, the quiet and darkness comforting in the warmth of a perfect summer night. My eyes are heavy but there is a smile on my face. A wonderful holiday followed by another night of innocent freedom…I do not need any more reason to smile.