Journey Interrupted

It seems the entire world is on an interrupted journey. Things we took for granted have evaporated. As the television shows play at night, I’m fascinated with the lack of masks. The images don’t represent the real world anymore. Masked individuals hide their smiles and interactions as they hurry in to shops and scurry out to their cars, gelling to sanitize any chance of Covid right out of their lives. Faces are a lovely canvas for expression of soul and self, now hidden like spring’s subnivean crocuses .

It snowed again last night. Another type of masking. Yesterday’s tracks, from an occasion rabbit or bird, are hidden now. Everything’s fresh, while waiting for the day’s story to be etched upon it. As days go by, like you, I’m growing weary of being the main character in a story sans dialogue or direct communication with the outside world. Outside my window, the snow covered landscape is a Currier and Ives vision of a home in the wilderness. As still and flat as the pictures on an ornamental plate, is my life today. Yesterday, there were only two sets of car tracks in the snow. In the entire waking day, only two souls ventured out, or perhaps it was only one that left and returned home. My world is a very quiet one. Even the mustangs have found refuge elsewhere.

Journeys need to be on hold for now. As the decision makers fight over the next requirements placed on their very weary citizens, I think of my cruise in December and how I dream it will be. Everyone enjoying themselves on the trip of a lifetime. Days at sea in which to wrap up in a warm blanket on the balcony and escape into a great book. Ringing up room service and ordering whatever strikes my fancy at the time. A pretty dress for dinner with new friends eager to enjoy a pleasant meal. A show. Dancing. A walk to the bridge after dark to see the black skies twinkling, adorned with billions of stars. I make that journey multiple times a day, as I watch my coffee creamer supply diminish during this storm. Of course, the cruise described doesn’t exist, anymore than a recipe to replace Sugar-Free French Vanilla Coffee Creamer.

VST never wanted to cruise. We could’ve visited so many places, but, it wasn’t his thing. His disease caused paranoia, deep rooted and insidious. He loved the water, especially the ocean. But to let another be the captain was something he would never do. He was the captain of his own ship, charting his own unfamiliar waters until his very last day. When we first started boating in the early 1990’s, charts were on paper and needed studying. Folded maps held all the secrets beneath the surface of places you wanted to sail. Along with everything else his brain absorbed, late in the night, I would find him studying. Charts of Monterey Bay and the Santa Cruz Yacht harbor, spread out and examined carefully, while planning upcoming trips. He was prepared for any and every disaster. A lot to carry in one brain.

VST hated the thought of being trapped in a snow storm. For the last three winters, he was planning journeys at the first mention of inclement weather. Before snowflakes settled on VC, we were gone. The sunshine of Laughlin or Las Vegas provided relief from snow shoveling. Of all the horrible storms VC suffered over six years, we were never snowed in once, thanks to VST. Snowed out, yes. Snowed in, no.

Our journey was so viciously interrupted by cancer. Like a vulture, grief now pecks at the carcass of ruined dreams. My journey has been interrupted in ways I couldn’t have predicted a year ago. His journey was to a place so vast and far, there are no bridges connecting our worlds. Death cramped our style, eh, VST?

Today, I am going to do my best to take at least three mini journeys, in which there will be no interruptions. I plan to journey into the world of the Avengers and watch another fantastical movie, taking my mind off the snow and my house bound situation. A far more productive journey will take me into at least one closet, beginning the task of spring cleaning and the collection of discards for the spring yard sale. The last journey will be into the land half and half, vanilla, and Splenda, to create a new recipe for coffee creamer. Three journeys with three different results. I’ll enjoy this day, while the snow melts, and we are another day closer to leaving our homes and returning to our lives.

Thanks for listening. This widow needs her friends. Choose happiness. Grab a journey in whatever way you can. Through hawaiian music, or a travel show. Get out there and take a little trip. The price is just right.