Travel days. Into Austin last night for music. Fredericksburg this evening for more of the same. Houston on Friday for football. Fischer on Saturday for music. Galveston on Sunday for family at the beach. Sort of reminds me of the old days. It was nothing to drive hundreds of miles to see friends and family because we lived in Houston. It was 70 miles from our house in Alvin to Cypress to visit our oldest son, a long round trip.

These days, 140 miles gets me a good way down the road from my current home and I feel like taking it, because it’s the holidays and I want to see old friends and family. And if a rolling stone gathers no moss, then one way to avoid being a man of constant sorrow is to hit the road. I’ve got new tires, fresh oil, a relatively low mileage car, and plenty of people who want to see me. All I need is good weather, but I’ve driven in the rain before, so I think the big thing is desire.

And I’ve got that. In a way, I’m reaching back to the first quarter century of my life when the world was fresh, and I was on my own. Relearning old skills. Chief among them was my ability to adapt to new circumstances. I never asked to be moved around the country as a child and I certainly never asked for my wife to pass, but both things happened and, in each case, I found myself dumped into a new world. And there is a boat load of cliches about your choices in that situation, and picking one of them, I choose to swim.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale