The scenery was too familiar for the first 200 miles. The drive to Atlanta from Lake Park, Georgia is never exciting to me, after nearly 45 years. The layout of the land is flat, boring, predictable. The most interesting views are some of the new billboards that we pass. Or a swift glimpse of other travelers in their vehicles, peeping in on what they're doing, what they look like, checking a license plate to see where they are from. Nosey interstate fly by neighbors. The eye contact is always a bit awkward but never lasts long. I can usually play it off by nodding my head and singing a song while looking off into the distance, as if I never meant to connect in any way. I often wonder why we choose to look at each other. We all do it. "Drive by Peepin Tom's". Dave and I are comfortable in our tiny space mobile. We can talk, or not, or listen to music, or a comedy channel, and even political talk radio when he feels like torturing me. I always have my blanket and pillow along for the ride, although I never can seem to fall asleep. Our pets are cared for for the next 5 days. It's a road trip get away..to a family reunion in Tennessee and also Kentucky. And it's Dave birthday. He's turning 49. I think of that. Age and time that has passed. Family road trips that have come and gone. Questioning where the time goes? And I think of them. My girls. They would normally be in the back seat with us. Singing at the top of their lungs, arguing about nonsense for me to diffuse, playing games that pass the time together. Time. There it comes again. A wave of emotion hits me. Time has taken them out of the back seat. They aren't with us on this trip. It's our first road trip without our kids. And suddenly I have an urge to reach back over the seat to grab a hand. One of the things I did on our road trips when the car would get too quiet. Each of us lost in our own thoughts as the yellow lines passed us by. I would reach behind me, moving my fingers, waiting for a little hand to grab mine back. Touching base, saying hello...I had that urge. In the same moment I had the overwhelming reality that the back seat was empty. I couldn't resist, even though I knew the action of it would break my heart. I reached around the headrest and moved my fingers anyways. Tears rolled down my face as I watched the signs and the grass fly by me. I was standing still as we traveled down the highway. Catching my breath, wiping away quiet tears that fell without any effort at all. Reaching out instead to find Dave's hand, I held on tightly. And then the landscape changes, the mountains come into view. I roll the window down to feel the breeze and take in that North Georgia air. Everything changes. The climate, the smell...Life. It's all around me, Behind me, ahead of me and with me, as the distance of home and all I have known is somewhere far behind in the rearview mirror. Somewhere in the back seat of my past that I carefully packed and carry with me every mile. I turn to look at the empty seats but I'm interrupted by Dave's knowing eyes, and we smile kindly at each other. There are no words. We know. The road moves under us as we look ahead, just he and I. Taking us to new places.
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