
Traveling a year after my mom’s accident was therapeutic.  I cried with every inch of the road.  Every road led me closer to my mommy.  It reminded me of her journey, her journey to be with my dad.  I cried buckets and buckets of tears.  I felt the wheel needed to turn so I could finally heal and forgive myself for not being the daughter my mom deserved.  With every destination, I come and go with hope that the pain will wither.  
Now 3 years pass her death, and I’m on the road again.  Traveling gives me the escape I need.  Traveling never lulls me to sleep, I enjoy the scenery, think of my mom, do a lot of retrospect, I think of my own time when I’ll be saying goodbye, and I find peace.  I find myself over and over and over again.  
 
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