by Belinda Jolly

Created on: October 15, 2008

The ride to Detroit was long. There was no one to talk to. There never had been anyone to tell her secrets to for years, come to think of it! Oh the kids had all grown up and went their separate ways. Sure and they kept bringing their problems back, one by one. Just as one was back on their feet, another one messed up and landed on her doorstep. It just kept happening over and over. Crazy, that's what it all became. No peace at all. And the loneliness she felt. That was the biggest demon she dealt with. When all of them scattered with places to go and things to do, there she sat. The house became like a tomb. Tears would fall and her throat would tighten up, as she swallowed hard to keep those tears back, yet they fell hard and fast. No one would hear her cry. She learned a long time ago to never let them see you cry. Crying showed you cared.

Today she woke up and started the same things over again, not knowing if she would leave. She toyed with the idea as she lay in the bed the night before, like so many times before. Like all the other mornings, she awoke feeling the need to try to make this day different. Yet as the morning passed, she realized it was all the same, that it would always be this way.

So she reached into the back of her closet and pulled the oversized suitcase that had been hidden from the others. She had meticulously packed what things she would take with her when the time came, making sure to get her family pics, and pieces of costume jewelry that were of sentimental value to her. There were a lot of things she wished she could carry; yet she had to give the thought up, as she was traveling light and not clinging to much of her past at all. She was starting over. Starting a new life. What could that be for a woman well into her fifties? Only time would tell.

The bus rolled steadily down the freeway as it made its way to the downtown terminal. It had been decades since her eyes glimpsed the city that she once lived in. Now she was looking out the window and catching some familiar building that still stood or a street name that played on her memory. Once she had traveled around the city, going to the fireworks at the river, or, to Belle Isle, crossing a bridge to a beautiful park full of deer and a place to fish on a lazy, sunny afternoon, and along with a picnic lunch, lying on a blanket on the ground watching as a couple played Frisbee with their dog. Having so much in common with the other people enjoying a day away from the hustle and bustle

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