(not pictured: they were selling Girl Scout Cookies at the Oasis. Clever)
So today I got to engage in my favorite ritual- The 5 hour road trip (specifically from Chicago to Waterloo). For the majority of my adult life I have always lived a five hour drive from home. I’m from Waterloo, Iowa and I went to college in Lincoln, Nebraska. I now live in Chicago. I grew up going on epic 2 week long summer road trips with my dad or shorter road trips to Chicago with my mom. I’ve always enjoyed getting in the zone of going down the open road, singing along to my favorite songs, and experiencing random moments of inspiration. For some reason, the section of I-80 between Des Moines in Omaha was the source of many weird sacred/ creative inspirational moments. Maybe it’s just because it was a place for my mind to relax or maybe it was simply because there isn’t much else in that stretch of Iowa.
I had my rituals with the Nebraska to Iowa road trip- stop at the same burger king/ gas station just outside of Des Moines. Always switch to the Reefer Madness soundtrack as soon as I get to highway 20.
The drive between Chicago and Iowa has a whole other meaning. I use the same familiar route that my family would take on trips the Chicago. The same route we would take on drama club field trips to Chicago. I grew up going on all these trips knowing that I would move there. I remember being in awe of the hilly bits thru western Illinois and being excited to get to the Oasis by Rockford because that was a sign that we were almost there.
The first time I drove into Chicago by myself was to head into town to look at apartments. I drove from Lincoln to Waterloo then from Waterloo to Chicago. This was my first time driving from Waterloo to Chicago by myself. I was excited to make the journey by myself for the first time. I remember getting in the groove of listening to Les Mis (complete symphonic recording, thank you) while driving thru the hilly bits and the increasing tension as I had to drive in the city for the first time. I remember everything went fairly smoothly and I was feeling pretty confident until I reached the merge of I90/94 out of nowhere my little UU former catholic self did the sign of the cross for the first time in ages. Fast forward to now, where I have driven into Chicago so many times that I am able to handle the tension of city traffic pretty well. There is still much swearing and prayer and tension in the shoulders but I am used to it.
So much has changed over the past six going on seven years of living in Chicago. I’ve made the journey home so many times over the past few years. Many of those trips have been due to family crisis. In these moments where I have had to drop everything and get on on the road to visit someone in the hospital, I have found comfort in preparing a playlist. I got excited for the journey.
I think this is because my time alone in the car is a time for me to just be with my thoughts and with my music and do whatever I need to do mentally while driving. It’s a “5 hour me- party.” Sometimes inspiration hits, other times I just rock out to showtunes. My life has completely turned upside down in losing my mom. I’ve made so many trips home over the past six months. I drove out several times in rented cars on last minute trips to visit mom in the hospital. Now I drive her car to go visit for weeks at a time and sort thru her stuff. But thru all this madness, the ritual stays the same.
Anyway, my new ritual when visiting home includes staying with a family friend who has a doberman. I'm thankful for old rituals but also happy to create new ones that involve a dog sleeping on my foot. as I blog.
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