The Night Rain Followed Me to Love’s Truck Stop

Why does rain make some people sleep better? Just wondering.

The rain started somewhere west of Amarillo and followed me all the way to the truck stop like it knew I was tired.

By the time I pulled into the glowing parking lot of Love’s Travel Stops & Country Stores, diesel engines were already humming through the night like restless animals that never sleep. Headlights cut through the darkness. Air brakes hissed. Men in heavy boots crossed the pavement carrying coffee cups bigger than my kitchen mugs back home.

I parked my little black Volvo between two pickup trucks near the edge of the lot — far enough away not to be noticed, but close enough to feel safe.

That strange balance becomes your whole life when you live this way.

Invisible, but not vulnerable.

The rain tapped softly against the windows while I hung blackout curtains and settled into the back seat. At seventy-five years old, my bones ached from driving. My shoulders hurt. My hands smelled faintly of gasoline and wet dog food after opening a can for my little companion curled beside me.

Inside the store, everything felt overly bright.

Shelves packed with chrome tools. Trucker hats. Cinnamon rolls spinning beneath warm lights. Country music drifting overhead while exhausted travelers wandered the aisles with the hollow look of people trying to outrun loneliness one highway at a time.

No one asked questions.

That’s one thing I’ve learned about truck stops.

Everybody is carrying something heavy.

Outside, the rain kept falling on eighteen wheelers lined up for the night, their engines rumbling steady beneath the storm. I climbed back inside my car, locked the doors, and listened to America breathing around me through diesel smoke, thunder, and worn out tires rolling east toward morning.

For a moment, I didn’t feel homeless.

I just felt human.

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If you’ve ever spent a night inside a vehicle listening to rain hit the roof while the rest of the world hurried past you, you probably understand this feeling better than most.

Best,

Carol