The Night I Slept at a Rest Area — and Woke Up Free
I am 75 years old and I am trying to live simply and honestly and without apology.
5:00 AM and the Sky is Waking Up
It’s 5:00 AM and there’s a thin grow of daylight creeping in outside. My body knows before my mind does — it’s always been that way. I pull back my reflectives and check the skies. I’ve done that since I was a child and I don’t imagine I’ll ever stop.
My eyes are better this morning and I am grateful for that. The sun in Texas and Arizona has a way of cutting right through you — fiercer than anywhere else I’ve ever been. By the end of the day my eyes are burning and raw and I just have to push through it. That’s the deal you make when you choose this life.
The Quiet of the Rest Area
I make a cup of coffee and climb out of the car to stretch this old body. Two 18-wheelers are parked nearby, quiet as sleeping giants. No engines. No voices. Nothing. I figure a trucker is in there catching whatever rest he can before he has to push on again. Lord knows they earn it. I have watched those men and women back those massive rigs into spaces that seem impossible and I am still in awe every single time. There is a grace to it that most people never stop long enough to notice.
I made it through another night. Some nights that feels like more of an accomplishment than others.
Loretta, George, Johnny and Merle — Still Family After 60 Years
I get back in the car and turn on the radio. Loretta Lynn comes on and something in my chest loosens just a little. I have been listening to her, to George Jones, to Johnny Cash, to Merle Haggard, for more than 60 years now. They feel like family — the kind that doesn’t leave. Their songs were always about survival, about heartache, about getting up anyway. I understand that a whole lot better now than I did at 20. These days those songs feel less like music and more like company.
The Art of Aging on Your Own Terms
I am 75 years old and I am trying to live simply and honestly and without apology. Aging is hard. Nobody warns you how hard it really is. But I believe there is an art to doing it with grace — and I am still learning that art every single day. I don’t need much. I don’t want much. Peace of mind. Open road. A sky worth waking up for.
Modern life can keep its pace. I’ll keep mine.
The Emotional Side of Van Life No One Talks About
The Road is Enough
I just want to travel. I want to feel the journey in my bones and be grateful I still can.
So tell me — what do you want to do with the rest of your life? What does a good life look like to you right now? Leave it in the comments. I mean it. I want to know your story.
I find your life rather perfect! 😍
I’ve crossed the threshold and I’m now going downhill (or so they say after 40), but I believe the next 20 years are going to be my best yet.
My dream life- and I’m on my way to achieving it- is to finish up my tiny home, do a few more improvements to my property, plant more fruit trees, and then either rent the whole thing out, or charge a friend to be caretaker while I camper van anywhere and everywhere. I’d quit my job, and either do remote work or pick up odd jobs as I go along. I have a broad résumé and a plethora of useful skills, so I’m certain I could find work anywhere.
At this moment, I’m about $50,000 away from achieving my dream life, and at age 41 that doesn’t seem so impossible. 💕
As different as night is to day, the road calls to some, and the rest are excluded. The road called to me for 46 years, but because it was work it was more of a theft. The road still calls, although now, I try to pretend that “No, I couldn’t possibly, it’s just not the time for me to go again.” I stay at home and hope people find my place on IOverlander, to tell me of their travels.
Love reading your stories.