Life Notes in the Margin

We stayed overnight at a Pilot Flying J in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. It was our first sleepover at a big-rig oasis. But it wasn’t my first experience with a truck stop. My dad was a long-distance trucker for most of his working life. He retired with over one-million miles behind the wheel. I discovered the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean on a trip to Oregon with him. I explored the big city with a truckload of candy for Brooklyn, New York. I’m forever grateful for our adventures beyond the invisible, seemingly impenetrable border around my small hometown. He showed me places that pull me toward somewhere new tomorrow. Dad, you changed my life’s trajectory. Thank you. The oily scent of diesel fuel hangs in the air, hard-working truck engines growl, and a continual tide of professional drivers ebbs and flows. I hear faint echoes of my big-rig adventures.

I walk along a groomed trail in Mirror Lake State Park, Lake Delton, Wisconsin. The rhythm of my pace fades into subconscious thought. I breathe in calm. I breathe out and smile. The patchwork quilt of nature sounds slowly unwinds into separate threads. The cool wind brushes against my skin. No labels are needed now. I simply notice stray thoughts, then shift my focus to a sound, touch or smell.  My physical, emotional and spiritual fabric has been washed in this nature bath.

Door County, Wisconsin was our destination for the weekend. We once visited this area as newlyweds. Thirty years later we were back, on a random search for good wine. We landed at Simon Creek Vineyard and Winery. I pointed the truck camper down a narrow country driveway, past immaculate grapevines. Inside the store I felt a hushed sadness hovering over the staff. A simple sign behind the bar reminded customers that the store would be closed on Saturday, in honor of Colonel Tim Lawrie. I bought two bottles of wine and asked, “who’s Colonel Lawrie? The host replied, “He’s the owner. He passed away unexpectedly last weekend.” The vineyard that day became a memorial. The hallways held Colonel Lawrie’s collection of combat medals, photos with VIPs and wine industry accolades. Ben Franklin famously practiced thirteen virtues. Each day he began by asking “What good shall I do this day?” Colonel Lawrie left behind the good of delicious wine, a thriving business and a long history...