WanderLust (True Mommy Confessions 5)

 

Sometimes a woman just needs to wander...

Six years ago this summer, I left the apartment where I lived by myself and walked to a train station with nothing but a large hiking backpack on my back.  I would not return home for almost a month.  After stepping on the commuter train to New York City, a conductor looked taken aback by my luggage.  “Where you going?” he asked.

“Africa,” I said, barely even making eye contact.  It never occurred to me that this might seem odd to him or anyone else.  I went about my business, negotiating a variety of public transportation until I reached JFK Airport.  The next night I was in Johannesburg.  That was the year after my mother died.  It’s a funny thing how horrific pain can lead one to freedom, and joy can sometimes feel like a prison sentence.

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