We are on the last leg of our 3 day journey West to our friend Ed’s wedding. I have taken in the plains, loads of windmills, corn and some of the most beautiful open spaces that I have ever witnessed.
We have had 2 of the longest days as we continually drive into different time zones. We cheer as we gain hours and sunlight on long stretches of open road. We are in affect going back in time, how I wish it were that simple.
Parker is doing all of the driving. Maybe ‘Old Sheryl’ would have dared to try to steer this monster rig, but there’s no way now. We are essentially on a huge bus, towing Sven, the mighty Volvo.
I was unsure how I would feel being in a vehicle for so long. It’s more like a house on wheels, Parker had said. It feels like a train, which is somewhat comforting. Then you realize that there are no tracks, just hard, unforgiving pavement. It’s been tough to say the least. While Darcy and I sat curled up reading, I imagined the worst several times. My mind conjured up these awful images of impending doom. The nightmares have been pretty graphic too. The amount of times that I have had to tell Parker that I’m nervous or uncomfortable is a little crazy. It’s like the trip has kicked my PTSD into high gear again. I just keep thinking that I can’t afford to lose Parker or Darcy now too.
But I’ve almost made it. I can just about taste the fresh air in my lungs from the Rocky Mountains.