Long Way Home

Taking the Long Way Home

  I must confess that somehow, somewhere in my ancestry, which is mostly French, there must have been some Gypsy blood mixed in there. Who knows how far back it may have been. But I have a sneaking suspicion it comes from both sides of my family. My mother was born and raised in Eudora, Arkansas and my father in Breaux Bridge, Louisiana. They both ended up in Port Arthur, Texas in a time when most people never traveled very far from the places where they were born. Not all the members of my family inherited this trait. Some of them hate to travel and remain within a few miles of the place where they were born. But the rest of us have been here and there all over the country. I ran from Southeast Texas as soon as I got the chance. But family keeps pulling me back here even though I would be much happier living somewhere else – at least for a while.  I love to travel to new places and just explore. If I’m in one place too long, I get restless. Itchy feet. I start feeling like a lion in a small cage. I start pacing and staring out the door wishing for the freedom to just go where I want to go. Sometimes when I’m going down the highway, I get this almost uncontrollable urge to just keep on going. I don’t have a destination in mind. Just an urge to point my car towards the horizon and go where it takes me. I even find myself enjoying hurricane evacuations because it gives me an excuse to go somewhere different. And I don’t get in any hurry to come back when the storm has passed. The last evacuation we had, I and most of my family ended up in Pensacola, Florida. The storm was headed directly into the Texas Gulf coast between Houston and Port Arthur, so we decided east was the better direction to head while everyone else was headed west.

  The first morning in Pensacola, I woke early before everyone else who were all exhausted from the late night trip. I couldn’t sleep and was up at 5 o’clock in the morning. I sneaked out of the motel room and went exploring. I drove all over Pensacola just exploring and getting my bearings. I had looked at the map on my laptop before I left, so I was sure I could find my way around without getting lost. I have a good sense of direction which comes in handy at times. Anyway, about three hours later I returned to the motel just when everyone else was starting to stir. My granddaughter said she needed to go to a Wal-Mart and the others wanted to see the sights and go to the beach. They also suggested we find a good restaurant for lunch. I told them no problem, just follow me. I already knew where the Wal-Mart was located as well as Target and a shopping mall. I also had discovered a nice looking seafood restaurant that we should try. And I knew the way to the beach. Everyone looked at me like I was psychic or something. And they wanted to know how I had found all this without getting lost. I just shrugged and said it’s what I do. It’s what I’ve always done when I get to a new place. When I was younger I used to go to Houston and just ride around. Sometimes I would get a little turned around or not know exactly where I needed to go to get to a certain place. But Houston is easy. You just pick a direction and keep going until you hit one of the loops that go all the way around it then it’s easy to find your way from there. Being lost doesn’t frighten me at all. In fact I kind of enjoy the feeling and it becomes a challenge for me to find my way again.

  Often when I’m going somewhere in my car, I’m in a hurry to get where I’m going. So I take the shortest path to get there. But coming home, I often go the long way around, just to be seeing something different than what I had to look at on the way there. In life, too many of us are in such a hurry to get somewhere that we always travel the shortest path possible. We’re always in a hurry for Friday to get here or our next birthday, or graduation day, or wedding day, or etc. etc. etc. We are busy wishing our lives away. I know some that are anxiously waiting for doomsday because they are in a hurry to “go home”. Not me. I prefer to take the long way home and fully intend to enjoy every minute of the trip.