14 Days on the Road and Life is good

Tonight, Sedona, Arizona.

Before Sedona came Albuquerque. I met Holly and John for the first time about 19 years ago on a windjammer in the Caribbean. (I never quite know whether to say “I” or “we” when I speak of past vacations. Back then I was married and part of a “we”. But now I am a “me.” So should it be “we” met, even though the story is now about me? This is another one those weird things about divorce. So let me try to start with us and move on to me.)

I love this story. We (my ex-husband and I) met Holly and John a long time ago for five short days while on vacation 19 years ago and connected in a profound way. In the years since, Holly and I have exchanged Christmas letters (always signing the guys names along with our own of course), writing a short note about what had transpired in our lives in the past year. And in all those years since the windjammer we have visited only twice. They live in Albuquerque, New Mexico, I (we) in Florida.

This visit, however would be was just me, now a single woman visiting a couple of old friends with whom we had a long distance relationship. I wondered, “Would it feel weird”? Would being only me make a difference? Well, I am so pleased to report that it didn’t seem to at all. It was a fantastic visit. "I" connected once again with John and Holly just as I had done 19 years ago. Talking, laughing and enjoying their company and feeling energized and thankful. This relationship is something special that does not come along very often in a lifetime. I don’t know why they touch me so, but they did and they do and I am grateful.

Their 16 year old son, who hadn’t even been born when we first met, had a high school sport banquet to which I was graciously invited. It was fun to be back in a high school watching teenagers be teenagers. My own kids have been out of school for 16 years.

Saturday morning we hiked on a mesa while the city of Albuquerque stretched out in the distance beyond. It was cool and quiet out there where there under a huge cloudless sky. We returned home where John cooked the eggs and bacon for a very nice Mother’s Day breakfast. Then we drove out to Madrid. Madrid is an old mining town that has become a charming and exceptionally colorful art community. The old buildings house studios and galleries. Eclectic creations filled front yards and porches as well as what was once living rooms and bedrooms. It made me want to unpack my watercolors and brushes. But I am finding that there just isn’t enough time to travel and visit and paint, too. The painting will have to wait till I get back home or at least stay in one place for a while. I hope I can take the inspiration home with me though. Madrid was a perfect place to be for a while. My kind of place. A wabi-sabi kind of place.

My first stop in Albuquerque was to visit with my niece, Michele, and her family. Both she and her husband, Dave rank high in the air force. They live in a lovely house with their daughter and Dave’s mother. Most of Albuquerque can be seen from their back yard. We sad outside one evening watching the sun set and the city lights slowly illuminate until it looked like Christmas as far as we could see, the lights ending where the mountains began in the distance.

At dinner in a New Mexico restaurant I learned an important thing about New Mexico. Chili peppers and salsa are the thing. When the waitress asked if I wanted red or green, the blank expression on my face prompted Dave to explain that in NM most everything comes with red or green chili sauce. People are divided into two groups, red or green. I asked for a little of both, because I didn’t yet know which kind of person I was. I still don’t. I liked them both, with a glass of water on the side to cool the burn.

While they were at work, I hiked up a little mountain five blocks from their front door. At the top is a beach that precedes what looks like a waterfall, and probably is when rains get bountiful, but that day was dry and warm with a commanding view of the city and a stiff breeze that encouraged me to sit and feel and look and enjoy being alone in such a place. The desert landscape climbed the mountainside around me looking like one gorgeous gigantic rock garden complete with wild flowers, sage, and a colorful variety of rocks. I am a sucker for rocks. I spend a lot of time looking for that special one that calls to me, which then finds its way into my pocket and eventually to my home. I love these found rocks more than ones of actually monetary value. I don’t know why, I just do.

On the drive from Albuquerque to Sedona I continue through more of not much, big empty spaces broken up by red cliffs and rocks that create castle look alikes and rustic walls among the mesas and buttes. I feel free out there. I can see far ahead. I can see where I am going. I made a stop to have a look at the Meteor Crater. The crater, six miles off Interstate 40, is a really big hole in the ground. About 50,000 years ago, an iron-nickel meteorite traveling at incredible speed, in a blinding flash, stuck the rocky plain in an explosive force that left a giant bowl shaped cavity 2 ½ miles around and 500 feet deep, big enough for twenty football games to be played simultaneously on its floor. The price of admission includes a guided tour that includes the story of discovery, excavation, and the enormous effect of the meteor’s collision. Very impressive. Could happen again!

I spent the night in Sedona, AZ, a picturesque city surrounded by red-rock monoliths with names like Coffeepot and Snoopy. They stand like sentries. The town is also surrounded by the world’s largest stand of ponderosa pines. This is no wilderness, though. Boutiques, jewelry stores, and art galleries are everywhere. Tourists fill the roadsides and sidewalks. It is beautiful and hectic all at the same time. Parking in town is difficult to find and the Indian art is high priced, but the views…..oh the views!

My room at the Kokopelli Suites came with a hot tub. I finally relaxed and rested for an evening, alone, with my sandwich and coke (and a shot of rum), a magazine, and TV, and bubbling water. Ahhhhhhhh, I needed that. My road trip has completely filled my time, leaving me tired and worn out at the end of each day, inspired and grateful, and trying still, to get organized and have a plan for the next day. My thinker is having difficulty thinking. Driving through the open expanses of desert leaves me with a feeling of freedom and control of my life, but then I hit the city traffic and fumble and cringe until I reach a destination for the night. And I am tired. But inspired. And fired up! Looking forward. Not so much backward. Engaged in today. All this in only two weeks.

This is definitely a different kind of “vacation.” So far it has been pretty much a go and visit sort of trip, a lot of driving between stays with people I love, each feeding me both literally and figuratively, my body and my soul. I could have stayed with any one of them longer, enjoying their company, but in an effort to be a good guest and actually get around to everyone on my “itinerary,” I stay not long enough for me.

As a woman alone, travel has been much as I thought it would be. I go at my own pace, stop where I choose, eat when I am hungry, do pretty much as I please without regard for anyone else’s needs or preferences. I haven’t had much opportunity to feel lonely, in fact, the opposite is true. So tonight, I enjoy solitude, the king size bed, six pillows, hot tub, and TV all to myself. And time to relax and reflect a little. To soak everything up and be warm inside.

Life is good! What once was coming undone in my life is now coming together after two thousand miles and a few turns.

Love you, Jan