Wandering

Traveling across the Upper Peninsula yesterday, in the sunshine, made me feel like a mover.  A traveler.  A free spirit.  Part of it was relief knowing only lower Michigan got dumped on with enough snow to keep them off the roads.  Heading north was a plus.  The forecast predictions of Friday, being a day with sunshine, became a reality.  

I made this trip across the U.P. to visit with my sister, Mary, in Iron Mountain.  It's not easy planning a trip using W-US 2 as the main road.  It can be really asking for trouble with problems that can appear at any time with the weather, 2-way traffic, roaming deer, crossing snowmobiles and small town speed limits appearing out of nowhere.  I promised myself, on this trip, I would stop more, get out of the car more and take my time getting to Mary's.  Sitting in a car driving for more than two hours at a time makes my legs forget what their purpose is.  So, when I get out of the car I have to pretend I'm stretching by the car door because I'm like the Tin Man.  I have to let the oil get back to my joints before I can move.  (and my vanity won't let me wobble and limp like the obvious older person I am)  But, if I stop every two hours, I'm much more limber and don't have to play "Pretend You're Body is Young" game by the car door before I walk.

I stopped in Manistique, at a little restaurant called Cedar Street Cafe, to get Wi-fi.  I wanted to listen to Heidi broadcast and challenge the listeners to contribute to the fundraiser.  WCBN, a free radio show in Ann Arbor,  is in the middle of their fundraiser. I was the only customer in the restaurant, so I didn't hesitate to stream WCBN and listen without my headphones.   I sat at a little table, by the window, in the sun.  I called the radio station number to make a pledge.  The girl who took my name down said, "That name sounds familiar."  I have to admit, it felt good to be connected to Heidi so instantaneously.  She said, "Do you want me to give her a message for her?"  I couldn't say, "Tell her I love her and miss her and she's my baby."  So, I told her to relay the message that I was in the small town of Manistique, at a cafe, listening to her on WCBN.  Same meaning in the message, just not so embarrassing.

I took a few pictures of some beautiful buildings in this small town I'll share with you.  It surprises and comforts me when small towns keep using their old historic buildings.   

I'm grateful for my retirement from teaching.  I heard on the news about Atlanta Community School being on a two-hour delay this morning.  I tensed up just thinking about commuting in the bad weather all those years I commuted from Gaylord to Atlanta.  I'm grateful I don't have the commitment to be somewhere at a certain time.  My decision to "take my time" on the road was okay today.  No more worrying about getting to school on time, bad roads, darkness, bus stops holding me up on my way or stressing about the other drivers coming toward me on M-32.  

Now, when I hear school is canceled, I smile and think about getting out the big mixing bowl.  Making bread on those cold winter days was such a treat for me.  I knew I had all the time in the world.  I knew the house would smell like fresh bread most of the day.  The smells of baking seem to make everyone relax and appreciate the comforts of home.  I knew the snow day was a free ticket for me. 

I try to hang on to that feeling of freedom and not waste my retirement time.  It's precious.  I want to wake up every morning and feel gratitude.  Visiting family and loved ones never feels like wasting my time.  I love the warm feeling of connection.  It nurtures my need to be loved and wanted.  I hope that warm feeling extends back to them, too.  Being homeless has given me the opportunity to visit more.  It will be delightful to have a place to call my own, but I will miss my wanderings.  

All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost.  From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring; renewed shall be blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king.   Author: J.R.R. Tolkien