This time three years ago, I was contemplating my selecti...
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This time three years ago, I was contemplating my selection to become a member of the Host Advisory Board, with great hope...
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Day 11 - On the Road Again
“Fear is temporary; regret lasts forever.”
That was my mantra as we got ready for our journey. My oldest daughter, Polly, had announced she was moving to Los Angeles. Moreover, she planned to drive there. Before thinking, I blurted out I’d go with her. When she replied immediately that that would be great, the die was cast.
The thing is, we live in New York, and California is all the way across the United States. I hadn’t been anywhere but back and forth to my Airbnb in Maine in nearly two years. Add to that the light of my life was moving away, and I was a mass of nerves and anxiety.
I started planning very tentatively, the way you put a toe into very hot or very cold water before immersing yourself fully. I asked Polly if we could stop in Tulsa to visit Audrey and Dell, Airbnb guests from May who had already, it felt, become lifelong friends. After that we’d stop in Santa Fe to see Jonathan, a dear friend from college. At the beginning of the trip we’d have lunch with Polly’s grandmother, and at the end, we’d have Thanksgiving dinner with my brother. I mentioned our plan to an Airbnb guest from Los Angeles, Michael, and we swapped Instagrams and email addresses.
Polly made an interactive map of our route that we each added to. In Charlottesville, I wanted to see Thomas Jefferson’s Rotunda. In Nashville, she wanted to see the Opry. We both wanted to stop at the Civil Rights Museum in Memphis. Airbnb guest Michael, a passionate foodie, sent dining recommendations for every city we’d be staying in and some we’d be passing through for lunch. Polly mapped out our hotels (and our one Airbnb), and the trip started to become more real. But my nerves wouldn’t die down. Even though I trusted everything would go well, I had no idea what this trip would be like. After spending such a long time cocooned, locked down, isolated, and socially distanced, it seemed wildly improbable that it would actually be fun.
The day of departure finally arrived. Polly steered her car skillfully out of the city and soon we were driving down the New Jersey Turnpike on a brilliant blue November day. We put on Springsteen and started singing along, and just like that, my nerves sailed out the window, never to return. The freedom of the road grabbed us both, exhilarated us, and carried us across the country in a long wave. When we drove into Los Angeles and saw the Hollywood sign up in the hills, we broke into wild cheers. We’d made it. We’d visited family and friends, fallen in love with the American landscape, eaten great food, and gotten to know each other better. I saw a mature, kind, and determined young woman embarking on a new chapter of her life. I wasn’t afraid anymore, and I’d never have to regret that I didn’t go with her.
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