I can hardly believe how free I feel! I don’t think I really fathomed the weight of all those negative emotions on my shoulders, my mind, and my heart. Especially Apathy, “Apathetic Annie”. She was my greatest enemy. Finding the strength within me to defeat her took awhile and at one time I was resigned to thinking she’d always be my nemesis. To leave her and the others behind feels like a release from responsibility. I don’t feel weighed down. I have hope now.
And yes, I actually do have Hope Traveling with me in my van! Sitting in the passenger seat next to me. 

“Thanks for offering me a ride”, said Hope. “Sure!” I say, feeling light and enthusiastic. “Where are you headed?” I ask. Hope proclaims, “I’m going where you’re going! I’m here to accompany you back to your “Ordinary World”. I’m here for you.” I stutter, “Oh! Wow! Who did you … I mean, where did you… How did you know I would need you?”

Hope explains, “I met your friend Sue. She told me about your journey. I heard her say that you had determination to move your life forward. But that you would still need something extra to convince yourself it will be okay to let go. Especially to let go of your children. Is that so, Amy? Tell me what you plan on doing or saying when you return. How can I help?”
“Thank you, Hope.I am grateful for your offer. I need all the guidance I can get!”, I confessed. “Bring it on!”, Hope declared. I continue driving.
I confess, “Hope, one thing that has been weighing on my mind is that this van, my Beloved Behemoth, is on her last road trip. She’s 17 years old now. She’s tired and can’t function as well as she used to.” Hope interjects,  “Amy, did you hear what you said? Does it sound like anyone else you know?” I think about it and respond, “Oh, my God! This is a big metaphor sitting right in front of me, isn’t it?!”  I’m tired, worn out, working past my expiration date as a hands-on parent. But it’s hard for me to let go of my kids. I worry about them being ready to live independently. This van holds 17 years of memories and stories of my kids growing up. If I let her go, I’m letting go of that connection with those memories.This van, my Behemoth, has been a stalwart companion all these years, and an exceptional talisman in my Hero’s journey, too. She was at the ready and reliable whenever needed.

But, the words that keep ringing in my head, “Don’t work past your expiration date”, ground me in reality. With resolve, I admit it is time to let the Behemoth go when I return home. Thinking about this and feeling secure in my decision, I turn to wondering about what I am bringing home besides a van that needs retiring. Anything of value? What can I implement into my old life that will make it anew?

I am bringing home a powerful elixir. The elixir is something I made. I discovered this elixir through the writing I have done over the past 3 months. The writing opened up my mind, and my heart. It brought me out of darkness and into the light. My elixir is a new attitude, a new perspective. 

Life should not be defined as a challenge. It is a gift that I am going to accept every new day from now on. I am going to share this gift with my kids. I’m going to trust them to hold their own now. 

If I believe in myself and that I have done the best I can to raise them, then they will be okay. It will all be okay. The lessons I have taught them, the hope I leave with them will remain as my legacy.
We’ve arrived. I pull into the driveway. I am home. Hope and I step out of the van.  I hand her the keys. She is going to take the Behemoth and get her fixed, then it will go to a new, younger family. 

Waiting for me in the driveway are my daughter and son standing next to a small, perky looking EV car. My son hands me the new car keys and they tell me, “Welcome home, Mom. It’s so good to have you back.” They observe and continue, “Something is different about you. What is it? Is everything okay?” I tell them, “Everything is more than okay and with hope, it will stay that way.” I hand back the keys to my son and say, “It’s a beautiful day. Let’s all go for a drive through the redwoods.” We pile into our new ride, “Evie”, and we are off.