It’s okay to say “hell” here, right? I mean, it’s in the Bible and all, so it must be okay. I don’t want to offend anyone, so I’m careful about the language I use, but I was recently at a seminar where one of the speakers, a Pastor from our area, said its okay to say “hell”, so I’m hoping he’s right.
Today, I don’t want to talk about a road trip from hell, but I do want you to remember what that’s like, when you were last on a trip that started out badly, went haywire at every step, and then ended nothing like what you expected it would be.
No fun, right?
I don’t like to travel anyway, so I’m prejudiced against road trips from the get-go. I like staying at home. There is nothing about the road that calls to me. I can’t say that about my mom. She was born in the wagon of a travelin’ show, and I am her spawn, but we are not woven of the same cloth.
I detest travel.
I enjoy being other places, but I cannot stand the process of getting from here to there. I am anxiously waiting for the day when we can all teleport wherever we need to go. I am certain this ability would increase travel across the globe, especially for those of us who loath being in the car, a captive audience, for hours. If it takes days to get there, than I’m even worse about tolerating it–truly painful.
I will admit to never having traveled farther west that Illinois. I have gone to Canada, but no further north than Toronto. I have traveled south, but no further south than the tip top of Georgia. I did all these things while sitting in or driving behind the wheel of a car. I have never flown anywhere, neither do I wish to. I want to go to California. My dream is to drive the coastal route from Washington State to Big Sur and points south. My hubs and I had planned to go this summer, and we will most likely keep on planning, without going. He’s ready, but I’m gun shy.
Did I mention that I HATE traveling!
Bob is on a road trip today. He drove a family friend of his to Churchville, Tennesee yesterday. His friend is very sick and very homesick for his daughter and granddaughter, who moved to TN about six weeks back. They had lived there previously, but came back to Pennsylvania for a couple of years, during which time our friend was widowed. He is sick, as I said, and the cold winters here in the north aggravate his condition. COPD does not like the cold. Tennessee seemed like a better deal for him after his wife’s death, so the decision was made to relocate, once again. Rich is a retired military officer, so he’s moved plenty of times in his life. We suspect this will be the last move home, which is why Bob wanted so much to help him get there safe and sound. I feel sorry for Bob, though. After driving all that ways, he is turning around and coming back today. Today!! I do not envy him that return trip.
I don’t know why Bob is headed home today. I guess I will find out when he comes through the door tomorrow mid-day, or the day after. I can’t imagine making a trip like that. I would be bawling about now. I
would might be saying “hell” a lot. I would be frustrated. Bob doesn’t seem to be. He’s just Bob. Patient, caring, helpful, silly, ridiculously loving, good-tempered Bob, the guy who would give you the shirt off his back and take a blistering sunburn for you in return. That’s the guy I married. I love him, a lot! He’s one of the best guys I know, and generous as the day is long.
I’m thankful to God that Bob is in my life. Maybe someday I will be able to model the kind of patient endurance he shows to the world. Oh,
hell fiddlesticks, that’s a lie. I will never be able to do that. It’s fun to dream though. Pray for Bob, he’s on his way home!