As many have attempted to do lately, my hubby and I are planning a five-year voyage across our great states. Now, this is not a pipe dream or something we just came up with yesterday. This is something we began dreaming about when my kids were still in grade school. It is now becoming more than a dream, now that my hubby has retired and the children are grown.
Sadly, we do not have the funds to just go out and buy the perfect rig and jump right into travel. Last February we bought our coach, a 1996 Firan Raven. This was the last year Firan was in business, but this is not to say our coach is a lemon. Far from it. Back in the day, Firan made luxury coaches, and our 32 foot darling has many fine attributes and quality workmanship which you do not see in a lot of the newer rigs out there. She is a well-made beast.
I’ve never been one to like being tied down for too long. These same four walls of our tiny duplex drive me nuts. We’ve lived here only a year, and I am definitely ready for a change. This is my pattern, though. Once I was on my own, I never lived in one place for longer than a year without aching desperately to move on. The only home I was content to stay settled in was the home I raised my children in. We lived there for 13 years. Even so, I yearned for the open road, for travel, for adventure, and we often took two-week trips in the travel trailer we had at the time.
I must sit on my heels for now, biding my time until all of our unnecessary possessions are sold and our coach is ready. I must also bide my time and do my best to get healthy. Lyme disease has been my constant companion for many years now, and it is time she leaves. Our goal date is quickly approaching. Spring 2012 we will be on the road one way or another.
At one of our recent yard sales, a customer asked why we were selling everything off, and also why I was no longer working in my chosen field, why I was selling my medical transcription books and such. I explained Lyme disease to her and how it had stolen my strength and many of my memories. She frowned. Then I had to explain how I had gotten Lyme in the first place—from a tick while camping. She frowned even deeper. “So, you are choosing to go live in the woods, the very environment that gave you the disease which is killing you?”
Basically, yes, but I pray not to die from it. You must understand, I have Lyme; it does not have me. I cannot not be myself. I enjoy the outdoors. I thrive with the sun and the wind in my face, with the smell of pine trees and the early morning chirping of birds you can only find in the mountains. I cannot deny who I am just because I am ill. I just gotta be me. And I just gotta be free.