On Staying Still

You could say that I’m home; although, as I have left “home” three times already on this journey, you may not believe me. Some say home is where the heart is, but a friend of mine has a better handle on it, I think. She says, “Home is where you never have to hold your pee.” If we take her definition, then I am home. I’m at grandma’s, a place I’ve been visiting for 15 years. It’s the place I sleep late, walk slowly and take a deep breath. Here, with little agenda outside of three meals a day and an occasional scrabble or yatzee game, I’ve come to pause and prepare. I feel like a diver on the platform: focusing, breathing and raising my arms slowly above my head. I finally got around to joining AAA. I’ve stocked up on dried fruits and nuts to see me across the plains. And I’ve traced my finger back and forth across the map seeking out treasures, gauging distance and imagining the road ahead. Tomorrow I will rise on my tiptoes and punch my weight down on the platform in order to hurl myself into the unknown. But for the moment a scrabble game awaits.