The Runaway Road

In 1980, my mom signed me up for the book of the month club.  I was part of a club - the Book Club.  I felt privileged.  I had bragging rights that a younger sister doesn't often get.  I was a brat.  But could you blame me -I was just so excited to get my books in the mail. The fact that they were hardcovers made them all the more special. 

Sadly, I was never really a book of the month club member.  Mom must have signed me up for the free, no obligation trial offer.  Two books were all I ever got to read. I remember the outrage when a third book came in the mail. 
"I bet they think that the books come and you will feel you have to keep them when your kid sees them.  That's what they are counting on."  Mom said to one of her friends on the phone, "Well, that's too bad, because it's going back!"   I thought she was all talk.  I believed that she would at least let me keep the third book, and cancel after that.  Nope, true to her word the mystery book was returned.  The third book was never taken out of the packaging.   

But it's the second book that I've been thinking about.  The second book I received in the mail was The Runaway Road, by Stan Mack.  The story is about the Puddle Family who are packed up and ready to go on their annual vacation to the mountains.  Just as the Puddles began their journey, the road had other plans.  Instead the road runs away and takes them in a new direction.  The road, who was  sick of the mountains, decides it wants go to the beach.  Metaphorically teaching The Puddles that life doesn't always goes as planned, sometimes even the deepest engraved routines change with life's winding road. 

I can relate to the Puddle family, change is constant.  And I can also relate to the road.

Just like the road in the story, I ran away this weekend.  I made the list, packed the clothes, the toiletries, the first aid kit, the grocerys.  I planned the meals and prepared dinners and salads, then I made a bee line out of town. 

I ran away because in order refuel for life, I needed to separate from it.  I left behind the distractions  - the drama, Gramma's half empty messy apartment, the uncertainty of what September will bring.   I left it all behind and found peace.  When we returned Sunday afternoon I could breathe again.  Ready to handle whatever changes the road may bring.