It's Personal: Returning East Day 4

I am sitting in my brother's basement under a blanket. The dog lays sprawled beside me, utterly exhausted and conked out. I should probably feel the same. But there's an adrenaline rush associated with finishing a journey of such magnitude. Not to mention the fact that it feels like the time that my work laptop still reads: 9:42 p.m.

I first awoke at 5:32 a.m. Eastern. I looked at the alarm clock and chuckled. Then went back to sleep. I awoke again at approximately 7:30 when the brother got out of bed. I didn't feel like moving but knew that the final leg of the journey was calling me. I sat up and told the brother to start getting himself ready while I took the dog to potty. The brother showered. And then went down to get food. He reported back that the breakfast was questionable at best. And thus we departed the Jameson.

The Old Man had, the day before, suggested strongly that we explore the campus of Notre Dame if only for a brief while. In addition, the brother waxed poetic about his missed opportunity to see UCONN play at Notre Dame with his friends. So, we went to the campus of Notre Dame.

Before I speak about Notre Dame, I shall reminisce a tad. When I left for Seattle in 2002, I had planned to race across the country and arrive in the city within three days. That meant no stops, apart from bathroom breaks and the occasional snack. I made one exception. You guessed it, Notre Dame. I must admit that I had always had an interest in ND. Thanks to the Old Man, I've seen Knute Rockne All American about 10 million times. And I enjoyed Rudy. So, there was that. But, more importantly, I had just left the seminary. And I thought I could use a little help from Our Lady. Thus, I saw Touchdown Jesus, the outside of the stadium, and the Grotto when I had been there that once before. And I knelt in front of the Grotto asking God to help me understand myself and my direction.

Today, we parked at Notre Dame at 8:30 a.m. We walked toward the stadium, where there was a private event. We asked if we could see the field. We were turned away. At least we asked. We proceeded to Touchdown Jesus, the brother snapping pictures wildly with his cell. Then we went to the Basilica - a funeral prevented us from peaking in - and subsequently, the Grotto. At the Old Man's request, I lit a candle for our family. Then, I lit another for whatever it is that God wants to be my future. The brother and I knelt for a moment in prayer. I asked God for more help in my discernment. And thanked him for prayers answered since last I'd knelt there. We then walked swiftly back to the car where the dog had fogged up all the windows.

We entered the Indiana Toll Road at 9:30 a.m. Eastern.

Right, tolls. A pain. The idea is to make people pay for roadwork and infrastructure by purchasing the right to be on those same roads. Not a bad idea, theoretically, but in practice, it's questionable. I shan't rant this evening, but I had to go through my share of tolls today. The first was in Indiana. $6.00. The second was in Ohio. From the state border with Indiana to where I-90 splits from I-80. $14.75. Then another $1.50 for crossing the Hudson. We were lucky that those were the only tolls we did pay.

Perfect segue.

Sometime during that drive in northern Ohio, the Old Man texted the brother about another potential route. A bit longer in terms of miles but potentially shorter in terms of time. And an easier drive. Well, it wasn't shorter in time. Close enough at just under an hour difference. (And what's an hour difference in a cross country trip?) But it was an easier trip for the most part.

An easier trip except, perhaps, for Cleveland. I can now say I've driven through the heart of Cleveland, and I feel no cleaner than I did before. Apart from its general disheveled-lookingness, I have one major issue with Cleveland. At some point in I-90, there is a sharp turn in the middle of the highway. Again, I say a sharp turn in the middle of a major interstate in the middle of a major city. Yes, they warn you ahead of time. With those divets in the ground often used to alert cars to slow before tolls. Well, going over those divets scared the bejesus out of the dog, who burrowed his head under the brother's arm and shook uncontrollably. Just Dumb.

We drove up I-90 until we hit I-86 / Rte 17. We then took that road through Pennsylvania and New York. Where it was snowing. Not sticking. But snowing nonetheless. We got to Binghamton at about 7 p.m. And then we traversed the multiple hills in the area to get to I-84. And on into Connecticut we drove. Past the city where the brother teaches. Through Waterbury and Cheshire and into Meriden.

We ate and drank along the way. Subway subs. A few danishes with large iced coffee drinks. Water, always water.

The dog ate and drank too. Finding plastic utensils sturdy enough to unwedge the dog food from the can was a challenge. I'd give Wendy's the highest marks in that arena. Though not in the food arena.

We saw some interesting people. The very fat young man who worked at the Valero gas station. When I went into the small market to use the facilities, I heard him talking at the top of his lungs to his boss or his mother - maybe both - about all kinds of injustices and drama. Reminded me of the main character from Confederacy of Dunces. There was the woman walking her dog at Notre Dame who, when we tried to ask her for directions to the Grotto, avoided us as if we had some kind of communicable disease until she heard Grotto; she then hesitantly pointed to where it was. There were the two ladies in the tollbooth on the other side of the Hudson who saw the dog and wanted the dog to do something that would make their night. And they waited until he did. When he finally barked, they reluctantly lifted the gate for us to proceed.

We entered the brother's abode at approximately 11 p.m. Eastern. 8 p.m. Pacific. The dog introduced himself to the brother's dog and the brother's wife. Everyone seemed to get along.

I texted a few friends to tell them I was safe.

And then I made the call that sealed the deal.

On July 8, 2002 at approximately 5 a.m. Eastern, I departed West Haven, CT to learn some things about myself. I drove for three straight days in a 1996 Mitsubishi Galant. The first night I spent in Rockford, IL; the second night in Glendive, MT. I arrived on July 10, 2002 at 6:30 p.m. Pacific to the open arms of Joseph Fields.

On April 14, 2010 at approximately 8 a.m. Pacific, I departed Seattle, WA to return to the place from whence I came. I drove with the brother, the dog, and the trailer all either in or attached to a 2006 Subaru Forester. The first night we spent in Twin Falls, ID; the second night in North Platte, NE; and the third night in South Bend, IN. I arrived in Meriden, CT on April 17, 2010 at 11:00 p.m. Eastern and called Joseph to say goodbye.

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