End of Journey!
After a harrowing journey north to small-town Rector, then west to Austin (Live Music Capitol of the World), TX, Amy arrived home safe but exhausted around 5:00 A.M. this morning. I woke up around midnight and wondered, where are you, my precious daughter?, then made myself not think about it any more and went back to sleep. What else could I do besides lie there and worry myself into a sleepless fit? Six hundred miles may as well have been 6,000, as much good as I could do; and she seemed that far away, too.
Paul said she called him sometime late this morning. After the rat race around Dallas, and finally spotting the I-30 Texarkana exit somewhere in that layered maze, and after actually reaching that Arkansas-Texas border city and then eating a decent meal and taking a couple of other breaks, when she reached HPFC, she couldn't get the gurney out of the truck! Trying to hold the truck door open and slide the wheeled gurney out (I guess the wheels are supposed to automatically lower when the bed is pulled out) almost outdid her after all she'd endured the last couple of days. She left her boss a note, "You'll need to do something about this cart. I almost lost her."
Wouldn't that have been something, after nearly 48 hours of travel, "surviving" the cloverleafs, the tears, trying to read a map and maneuver through Dallas interstate highways in the dark, carrying that precious cargo, near hysteria once, and frustrated beyond reason a time or two, to have a disaster with the remains of this poor woman whom someone loved and sent for from Memphis (or sent to Memphis) to have her end up in an inelegant heap on the FH garage floor!
People who are grieving over their loved ones probably don't realize all it takes to get their person where they want them. Once I thought, well, hopefully, this person is supposed to have a funeral and not end up lost circling Dallas, or in another disaster (kidnapping, wreck, decomposition). And so my daughter will be safe. And so she is.
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