All roads lead home, it's true, but I traveled long miles in many directions before finally arriving safely ... and the trip was filled with out-of-the-ordinary happenings.
At age four I was saved from an early death when my seven-year-old brother pulled me, soaking wet, from a canal in California.
I married my childhood sweetheart at eighteen, became a mother at nineteen and relocated to Jacksonville, Florida where the ocean soon became as familiar as my beloved mountains back home in Arkansas.
Clock hands made their everlasting circles ... Calendar pages turned at regular intervals ... and major changes kept happening in my life.
I remember the good ...
I watched the sun set over the hills of El Paso, Texas ... enjoyed a delicious steak dinner in old Mexico ... only to find out later I'd eaten horse meat ... saw the biggest roaches in captivity on the walls of a Fort Polk, Louisiana guest house and saw paratroopers-in-training execute perfect landings in Fort Benning, Georgia.
From 3500 feet, a thoughtful pilot tilted his jumbo jet, first to one side then the other, to allow all passengers a view of the Grand Canyon. It took my breath away.
In Arizona I saw the Painted Desert and toured the petrified forest.
Near Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, my middle child took her first steps while we camped at Elephant Butte.
I toured castles in Heidelberg, Germany ... enjoyed car trips into Italy and France ... traveled by train to Luxumberg, and boarded a military air transport plane bound for the United States, only to be forced down in the country of Greenland during a sleet storm.
Somewhere along the way, I discovered I was stronger than I knew I was.
From a scuttle boat off the shores of Pearl Harbor, I looked down through ocean water and viewed the sunken hull of USS Arizona battleship.
On the sands of Waikiki, I danced the hula ... cold sober.
In Puerto Rico I danced the limbo ... slightly drunk.
I survived a bad landing in Los Angeles when a blown-out tire caused the tip of one wing to be resting on the tarmac by the time our plane came to a stop.
Little Venice of Texas is a famous part of San Antonio where canals intertwine through historic neighborhoods, and boats, piloted by guides, allow tourists a front-row view of the past. I will never forget that experience. The best part of all was seeing The Alamo.
I bought expensive perfume cheap while shopping on St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands and I lost money at the slot machines in San Juan, Puerto Rico.
In Las Vegas, Nevada I won money at the slot machines and watched a segment of Police Woman, starring Angie Dickenson, being filmed in the lobby of MGM Grand hotel.
I heard the Mormon Tabernacle choir in Salt Lake City, Utah ... appreciated country music in Nashville, Tennessee and attended great musical productions in Branson, Missouri.
Twelve years ago, A man in Ohio - severely handicapped with multiple sclerosis - reached out his one good arm and gathered my tired soul close to his heart.
Just like that, the long road ended.
I was home.
email: MelindaGerner@yahoo.com
