The sun slid down behind the Tappan Zee, and I slid down the Atlantic Coast.
My GPS and cell phone batteries drained, as were my own.
One last beautiful 287 sky allowed me the peace of mind to reflect on my visit up north.
It was so great to see Grampa, and I had such a fun, liberating drive up; it was so great to see him with his two dogs who keep him young. But goodbyes get harder as loved ones get older, and the lump in my throat was forming the night before; the cold firm grip that reality has on my jaw, holding my face in place, so I have to look and can't squirm away from the examination of our eventual, inescapable, everlooming mortality.
Reading helps, of course - did you know "hobo" is short for HOmeward BOund? - in that its both a satisfying experience for my brain, in that its an escape, but also a productive commentary on the shadows cast over the day...
When you sense a faint potentiality for happiness after such dark times you must grab onto the ankles of that happiness and not let go until it drags you face-first out of the dirt - this is not selfishness; it is your duty (and also you entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight
-Eat, Pray, Love
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