|Posted on August 27, 2019 at 7:10 PM|
This Friday, my family and I will be traveling from N.Y.C. to Myrtle Beach, S.C., to spend time with loved ones. This includes a return (years later) book signing at a store whose manager and clerk are already like family.
It will be a road trip. Our Grand Caravan can hold nearly a houseful of goodies and necessities. She wouldn’t mind our “throwing in the kitchen sink.” That’s one of the great features of the road: not worrying about keeping one’s suitcases light enough to carry and missing out on some simple pleasures.
This time, for the first time, I do not know our date of return or where we will go after Myrtle Beach. Much depends on my physical stamina: whether or not I’m strong enough to drive throughout the country. The rest depends on when the money runs out! And so, add “spontaneous” to the road experience.
Strength allowing, a drive on an old U.S. highway off the interstate will be one choice. And somewhere outside St. Louis comes a landmark intersection between said highway and the Mother Road, Route 66. Go left, and you’re on 66. Stay straight ahead, and this lesser-known highway holds its own for astonishing slices of America.
“I chose the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference”? Hardly. They’re both ‘roads less traveled by.’ LOL.
The road we choose to travel by will season the path of our life; the one we embrace will make a difference, as will the one we let go.
Now, writing this, I look on my future: all of it unknown including one minute from now, all in the hands of GOD, and ask: Would I want to know everything? Walking through a yellow wood, choosing between paths, should I expect to learn all that lies ahead before I make decisions?
Robert Frost ‘looked down one as far as he could to where it bent in the undergrowth.’ It was enough; the unseen preserved intact, still alive, seasoning and all.