As we drove away from the house, I looked through the window at the place where I’d spent most of my adult life.
I wondered whether I would ever see it again.
Then my son turned onto a road I didn’t recognize.
We weren’t going toward town.
We weren’t heading toward any senior community.
We were driving farther and farther away from everything familiar.
My stomach tightened.
“Where are we going?”
My son didn’t answer immediately.
Then he said, “You’ll see.”
The Road Became More Isolated
The houses disappeared.
Then the businesses disappeared.
Eventually there were only fields.
The road narrowed.
There were no sidewalks.
No streetlights.
No nearby buildings.
I looked at my daughter.
She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Where are we going?” I asked again.
My son gripped the steering wheel.
“Mom, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t answer.
