Now for something new. We did it, we purchased our third motorhome. It is fueled by diesel and has the bells and whistles to fill my husband’s dreams and mine too. Actually, it has more bells and whistles than we anticipated, but we will just live spoiled.
Now we face saying goodbye. Difficulty in letting go of dear ones, pets and possessions that have made so many fabulous memories possible is universally hard for us human beings. Inanimate objects, in this case our 8 year old South Wind motor home become old friends. Like us, it has more than one hundred thousand miles under its hood. It is time to renovate or trade it away.
To ease the parting blues , I remember so many adventures with joy. We have become intimate with the southwestern desert, seeking desert wildflowers, critters caught by surprise, rock climbs, sand dunes and traipsing over blazed and not so well blazed trails. We have encountered birds galore, bison, elk, caribou, bear, foxes, bob cats. Phew, and so much more.
Basking along the shores of the ocean. I remember getting soaked, fully clothed by the turbulent surf, running on the sand with the surf pounding in our ears, hiking through pine forests, redwood forests, Alaskan tundra, Canadian forests, getting lost and finding the trail leading to breathtaking waterfalls and photographing the glorious mountains and lakes, cities and towns and parks along our way. Kayaking, bird watching, picking berries, food adventures, cultural discoveries, historical perspectives, learning, doing, forever wide-eyed with wonder.
People are the keystone in my collective memory-gathering. What surprises have appeared through the windshield of the rig; revelers in costume at county fairs, boy scout rallies, lines of people on bike tours, cheese artisans, boiled peanut vendors. In one town there were 50 Abe Lincoln impersonators standing on the steps of the town hall.
During a stop in a National park we shared the snow remaining on the tow car with a young ranger who had never before encountered snow. The people we have met along the way remain friends. There are many friends we have visited on repeated visits, folks that drive long distances to meet us at an appointed place. The stories we have heard will never fade. Their stories, our stories, collectively, broach the subject of letting go over and over again. Loved ones lost, lost dreams, new opportunities, change, letting go. The act of letting go is a theme through out life. It seems insignificant in the course of the wide picture, but we will hand over our coach with some hesitation and pause.
On to our new coach. It is fun that it is branded Phaeton, defined as a touring car, or open carriage led by horses. Indeed, our coach will be led by powerful horses, thundering into the future with wonder and discovery blazing through the windshield.
Ann Carol Goldberg