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.