As my van crested the Grapevine, a long, steep grade on Interstate 5 over the Tehachapi mountains connecting the San Joaquin Valley to the Los Angeles Basin, points of light from homes, cars, businesses and streetlamps flickered in the darkness, together creating a bright, grid-like pattern stretching to the southern California horizon. I’d originally planned to make the 360 mile trip the following day, then fly back the same evening. But, I had finished loading my van earlier than anticipated, and had no plans for the rest of the day. So, I left Alameda at about two o’clock on Sunday afternoon. The trip was uneventful as I drove past farms and fields on the desolate stretch of I-5 between Tracy and Gorman. At one point, I saw lush yellow wildflowers which appeared to carpet acres of ground amid olive-green shrubs in huge unplanted fields. It was a beautiful sight.
At sunset I was driving just south of a little berg called Wheeler Ridge when the reflected glow of orange-to-red rays of sunlight lit the bottoms of dark gray clouds scattered across the valley sky. This, combined with vivid purple wildflowers which covered the ground – literally in the millions – created an ethereal scene that fooled my senses. The purple ground cover, illuminated by the reflected dusk, had the appearance of actually glowing from within. It was such a striking effect that a number of motorists had pulled off the shoulder of the freeway to take photographs. Not in the frame of mind to haul my camera out and do the same, I’d simply taken it all in as I continued my journey south.
Now descending the southern portion of the Grapevine after having stopped for gas as well as to stretch in the town of Lebec, I was road-weary. As I drove through the Castaic Valley, I listened to a compact disk I’d made the day before. The volume on the van’s CD player was far louder than I’d have had it if someone else were in the car with me. Thoughts of the past decade had been drifting through my mind all day. Hopes for that which lies ahead were, too. This is a bittersweet move in ways. As I’d mentioned in a previous writing, I’m consciously bringing this chapter of my life to a close. It’s sort of like having surgery. In operating on someone’s body, the intent is to restore, to make it well, to fix that which has been broken or is not working properly. The thing is, the surgeon must inflict intentional wounds in order to make things right. Yet healing from surgery is far better than going on – without being whole. I think of the Apostle Paul in Phillipians, chapter 3; I press on – I do not want to finish this life without laying hold of that for which Christ Jesus laid hold of me for. I guess you could say that I’m going through a sort of surgery for the soul. I’m chuckling to myself as I write – thinking, “It’s sort of like ‘Chicken Soup for the Soul’, but a lot more severe.” Yep, I like that, I’ll not edit that line out – it is fitting.
Reaching La Crescenta, a smallish, unincorporated community in Los Angeles County about sixteen miles north-northwest of downtown L.A., I pulled my van into my friend Terry’s driveway. After gathering my things, I stepped out of the van – and into a warm, welcoming hug. I was tired. It had been decided that dinner would be barbecued steaks, it was too late to go out. That sounded lots better to me than getting back into a car and traveling – even if it would be just across town. Terry’s son grilled Rib Eye’s for all of us, they were fabulous. These are familiar surroundings – Terry and her father Lloyd have been close friends for many years. After dinner I hung around and visited for a short while, then said goodnight and headed out. Food in my stomach had sealed my intentions – I needed to get some sleep.
My night was restless. Changes – a lot of them at one time – can cause one to tilt off-balance for a time. I’m doing what I need to do in taking care of myself – mostly through reframing my thoughts when there is more than one perspective to be seen. It is infinitely more difficult to reframe while asleep – I don’t believe it’s actually possible – the mind will go where it needs to go and mine was buzzing with activity as I tried to sleep. Physically, an old billboard climbing injury to my left knee has flared with all of the activity connected to my move. There are few things I like less than being awakened by pain, and my knee bothered me, aching intermittently throughout the night. I finally drifted off around first light, and slept soundly for a couple of hours.
Today I unloaded my van, tended to some details related to my relocation, and rested. After an early dinner, my friend dropped me at Bob Hope International, aka Hollywood-Burbank Airport. As I finish this entry, I’m at 37,000 feet, on my way back to the Bay Area. When I leave Alameda in a week or so, I’ll be leaving what I’ve known as home for most of the past four plus years. At one time I’d believed I would spend the rest of my life there, rediscovering God’s path and purpose for my life, finding enduring love, and settling in. Yet these core components to my moving forward have not come about. Instead, in a few days I will be headed over the Grapevine and through the Tehachapi Mountains once more. This time, I’ll be traveling directly into the next chapter of my life. I’ll be returning to the home of my youth, to a place where my first intent is to wait upon God and His strengthening, and to dreams as yet unfulfilled. I go with the knowledge that my ideas for the future hardly ever fit the reality of it. I’m reminded of Proverbs 16:9; “A man’s heart plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps.” Yes, there are many unanswered questions to what’s ahead – nevertheless this should indeed be an interesting journey. ◊
According to the latest forecast, Monday November 16th looks to be a brisk, sunny autumn day as we, Jessica’s immediate family, convoy to a place near Gualala – a small town at the southern tip of California’s Mendocino Coast. This is a significant day, for it will be exactly seven years since Matt and Jessica joined their lives together in marriage, fulfilling each one’s dreams, each the answer to one another’s prayers. The first week of their marriage was spent here as they honeymooned together. Now, seven years later, we shall scatter Jessica’s last physical vestige to the wind, upon the sea and to the earth, bidding goodbye once more, until that wonderful day in which all that we have hoped for shall be realized. Until then, my beautiful Jessica.
Until Then.
The below piece of poetry was written with a reflective heart, looking backwards at Jessie’s life as images, events and memories punctuated my thoughts while writing. This is my final eulogy to her, to be read at Gualala along with others. Since that will be a time for us, her immediate family, to remember her, I share it here for the many who have known and loved her, also for those whose lives Jessica has touched – both in life, and in death. There is also a text-only version HERE. Finally, the music track is “The Sacred Romance” by Michael W. Smith.
I have just upgraded my blogging software, including a Flash-Based Slide Show plugin. It didn’t take me long to figure out the photos I wanted to use. Press the ‘SL’ text (below right) to begin a slide show inline on this page, press ‘FS’ for a full-screen slide show.
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Lloyd Moore, Terry Blair and I traveled to Brownville, Nebraska during the corn and soybean harvest on October 17, 2009, returning to California on Tuesday the 20th. Although it was a short trip and I have never been to Nebraska, we did lots, visited lots and ate lots!
Lloyd and Terry’s family are wonderful folks – a hard-working, God-fearing lot – and my stay with them was an awesome experience. The culture and pace of life there is both personable and accomodating – I hope to be invited again.
