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Journal Three: Diary of the Open Road

Diary of the Open Road

Diary of the Open Road: Day Eight

Diary of the Open Road: Day Eight

 

 

We woke up at quarter to seven with the sun seeping through sheer curtains on the fourth floor of the Fairview hotel in Jackson, Tennessee. A clear view of Vince across the parking lot, we quickly packed our things, scarfed down some oatmeal and grapes in the lobby below us, and headed back out. 

After our series of unfortunate events yesterday, we were anxious to return to the road and make up the time lost with an eleven hour driving day. Tennessee to Texas. 

That first hour was as peaceful as I could have hoped it to be. The golden haze of the first light dancing with the trees on the road before brought a fresh hope before our tired eyes and worn spirits, John Lennon playing softly in the background.

Caught in a bit of a daydream, I didn’t immediately hear the words Morgan was trying to say to me, and just as soon as I finally woke up to the fact that she was gesturing to the battery gage and explaining that the blinkers weren’t working, we found ourselves in another parking lot, Vince as dead as the day before. 

Just like clock work. Almost as if time was repeating itself. 

Yesterday, I talked about the field of yellow flowers that drew me to take the exit which lead us to a safe parking lot where Vince suddenly died while in drive. 

And this morning, it was again, a field of yellow flowers that sparked yesterday’s memory for Morgan, alarming her to check the battery gage. Noticing how it had dropped significantly into the red zone, she took the closest exit just in time. 

I think it’s safe to say yellow flowers will hold a new significance for me from here on out. Through the unexpected, the Lord has remained constant and faithful. 

We called roadside assistance (really getting our money’s worth for that insurance), and before we knew it, we were watching Vince being chained back up while we squeezed into the front, the guy behind the wheel taking one look at us and comically saying in his very rich southern accent, “20 and 23? Ya’ll got a lot to learn”. 

Yes, sir, yes we do. 

After 5 hours at Meineke, the crew was able to put Vince back together for us. Just like our experience the day before, they were awesome. They corresponded with the shop we were at in Jackson and were able to get to the root issues, essentially a matter of strategic wiring. 

We're still here, waiting for them to finish up while we finish up the last scraps of pizza the manager bought us to make our day a little brighter. 

We’ve lost money. Our trust has been broken. We’ve learned things the hard way. We feel very frustrated by our own naivety. And I know myself well enough to understand it likely won’t be the last time. 

But in the midst of it all, I can hold ono the truth that this is how we’re meant to grow. And I don’t intend to give up right here. It’s only day eight. We’ll see what tomorrow brings, and take it day by day, just as we have been doing. 

If all goes accordingly to plan, we’ll be given a tour of Morgan’s little cousin’s hometown tomorrow somewhere in Texas. 

If all doesn’t go accordingly to plan, well, I suppose I would be used to that by now. 

I don’t mind it all that much. Makes for a good story.

 

sarah kierstead