Prevailing through holiday traffic in Pennsylvania and New Jersey I found myself conjuring up mixed images from our American mythology of Mayflower Pilgrims and Wampanoag Indians to the lyrics of Bruce Springsteen:
"...The highway's jammed with broken heroes
on a last chance power drive
Everybody's out on the run tonight..."
Thanksgiving dinner with my cousin's family in Pequannock, NJ was both tradition and yet different. Megan and I didn't attend the Macy's Parade this year. Megan and friends drove to a rock concert in Philadelphia the night before and spent Thanksgiving dinner with Patti and Patti's parents in Steelton, PA.
With them safe and secure, I could succumb to the vagabond winds.
New-fallen snow that faded with daylight flurried again at night like an omen to bless my drive home.
Twice I roared over the Delaware River not far from where the Continental Army in 1776 bravely climbed into some boats over the Christmas holiday to change history. Glancing up the river both times I felt "thanks". The moment was eerie.
Audio books transformed road hours into the worlds of Anne Rice's "The Vampire Armand" and Dean Koontz's "Cold Fire".
For a caregiver to simply wander was a cornucopia of food for body and mind rivaling ambrosia.
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