My friend

We take an unexpected weekend away- my friend invites me and my daughters to her shore house – and I sense she is getting away from hers.  We sing songs, play highway games.  I look over at her as we speed south on the highway.  There’s the pain, the anxiousness in her face to be away, and I  know what she’s doing.  I look into lanes to my  front to the left of my car- what we’re all doing.  Leaving things – our jobs, our housework our neighbors, our spouses.

She’s complained in the past, but any response from me brings, ” I don’t want to talk about it – I’m trying to be positive.”   I look at her then quickly back at the road again.   How crushingly sad to try to get away from something you’ll continually be pulled back to – by fear and worry and guilt over your kids, your religion, your things.  Like one of those balls on a paddle – never getting father from a foot away.  Until the string snaps.

I want to do something – but all I can think to do is drive.


About Dee

I teach English at a local community college and am raising two children; I like to paint, write, pray, read, hike and travel.
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