End of the Road

We spent the day in Kingston, Ontario, visiting friends and eating Steph’s Grandma out of the house; on the way home, Steph stuffed herself behind the wheel one last time. ”I can’t believe we haven’t had one scratch on this car. Or a ticket.” she said, knocking on the dashboard. 

Well, thaaaanks a lot. The next day, as Steph slept in her bed in Toronto, Kelsea and I hit a stand still about 30 minutes outside the city. The phone truck behind us did not. It clunked into the back of Betty, jolting us forward and leaving two dents that look like claw marks, or perhaps vampire fangs, on the rear hatch. No real harm was done, and no insurance claims filed, but the bump had an ominous feel, like something had begun to change. 

We made it to Syracuse without any more hiccups, and after our nap in the parking lot, the house welcomed us with open arms. They gave us a room, offered us food and feeling bad that she didn’t make a bigger hooplah about our ending, Jennifer Siracini, director of development, called in the 24 hour news station to document our final casseroles. We explained that this house was special because Jennifer originally inspired the logistics of the trip. We explained that we’d made the same two or three casseroles all over the country, that we wanted to do this to say thank you to everyone that helped us. But when asked about the best part, about the biggest thing that we took away, I flubbered and mumbled. How could I answer this question in under an hour? How could I reduce all the phenomenal people, ridiculous living conditions and personal changes to a couple sentences? I’m still trying to figure it out. Check back in a few weeks. 

An hour later, we left six casseroles steaming on the counter and took our last meal outside on the screened-in porch. The sun set over the Interstate and sirens whined in the background as Kelsea and I spooned poppy seed chicken casserole off our plates. I felt at peace and my mind was quiet, which, for anyone who knows me, is a really..really…big deal. I had expected an emotional overload.  But as I emptied my plate, I much preferred this ending. 

Some things never change, and Kelsea and I woke up at 2:30 the next morning to see Harry Potter. It made me cry and it woke me up. I drove straight through to New York without a single cup of coffee and twitched around my apartment all night long, unable to sleep and thinking “What will I do next? Unpack my closet? Clean the oven? Write a book? Buy a couch?” This attitude lasted until Kelsea left and I found myself alone at my desk for the first time in two months. It was weird. I heard the police sirens, the children playing at the school next door–all of the normal things, the city things, still happening, still moving. But I was just sitting. With focus and disbelief and a sense of contentment that I have not felt in a very, very long time. I suppose this is what happens when you do the things you are supposed to do. When you follow your gut, no matter the credit card bill or the idiocy. I don’t regret a single thing that has happened over the last two months, and I cannot wait until the three of us can get together and do it again. 

And Taylor Swift? Still playing.

Stay tuned tomorrow for a final thank you, a final wrap up and what’s next to come.