Hazy Highways..

...and heart stopping days

The Canadian fires have coated the horizon up here with a soft blue haze that has been riding with us for a week now. It burns our eyes and yet it’s impossible to hide the lovely fields, farms, and forests of the Midwest.

We have blipped through a stay in Peoria, a reunion for Madonna in her hometown of Dubuque, Iowa, a visit with Mom in Wisconsin, and we are now in Rochester, Minnesota checking up on our sweet girl in memory care.

I always feel as if someone is cooking whole wheat bread inside the truck when we drive “Up North”. It was once home, the start of everything, and there’s a kind of sweet comfort in something so familiar. The kindness and generosity of Midwesterners is legendary, if you look lost or confused (Me…always!) someone will always help you or buy you a beer.

Saying goodbye to my mom twice in less than a month is not easy on my heart. This morning she was like a little bird in my arms as I said goodbye again and wrapped my long arms around her tiny frame.

There was lots of kissing and hugging going on in my house when I grew up and we were not allowed to leave without kissing everyone goodbye, because my parents said you never know, you just never know. Here’s a gentle reminder to my Broads to do the same thing, because you never know, do you?

We sometimes got carried away in the Radish house with the hugging and kissing but now I realize it was a lovely training ground for our friends, neighbors, and relatives who were at first stunned by all the affection. It still doesn’t make my goodbyes any easier, but I I will be carrying my Mama’s embrace with me throughout all these miles.

A week in and tonight I am tired. There are many miles ahead of us and a few busy days up here under the long shadow of the town the Mayo Brothers established all those years ago. They couldn’t cure dementia but I know their successors are still trying. It just won’t be soon enough to help our girl.

I’ve got my traveling needlepoint with me, some 20 pound weights, emergency wine (That would be any kind of wine.), sleeping bags, another week’s worth of clean underwear, hiking boots and poles, and there are three more weeks of travel ahead of us.

The unknown road ahead has always been intoxicating to me. Who knows what’s around the next bend or in that little town when we pull off the big highway? There’s a lot of side roads coming up and that’s where you find the best treasures. The truck will be heading West in a few days and my cowgirl heart is already dancing.

Go hug someone and get out a map.

And now, as we did in the old days of journalism…###…this one is over.