When I was a teenager, I used to go camping with my parents. They had a truck camper on a Ford pickup, and Dad would set up a tent for me and other members of the family who wanted to come along, or perhaps a girlfriend. One time, we were camping up north at White Lake State Park, a really nice place to swim and hike. Quite late at night, a couple of dudes pulled in on motorcycles. I was forbidden to take them up on their idea of my joining them on the back of a motorcycle the next day, but we ended up sitting around a campfire, singing and playing guitar every night until they moved on. One of them taught me a folksong.
Me and Dad – 1960s
The song was an overview of life. One verse says, “It’s a long and a dusty road, It’s a hard and a heavy load, and the folks you meet, there are all kinds. Some are bad and some are good, some are doin’ the best they could, and some have tried to ease my troubled mind.” The chorus says, “And I can’t help but wonder where I’m bound, where I’m bound. Can’t help but wonder where I’m bound.”
At seventeen, I’d already met folks who were bad, and some who were good, and even some who were doin’ the best they could, and even at that time, I wondered where I was bound. Now, I have less questions, and more answers, because most of my life is an already-written chapter in the Book of Life.
I went to school, I was married in my early 20s and the next year was blessed with a son. My early adulthood was fraught with misery, due to one circumstance or another. I remarried when I was in my early 30s, have worked outside the home, in various capacities, and now, have settled into choosing my own work. You see, everything worked out. None of the adversity I went through killed me, even though at times, I imagined that I might not live through it. I lived long enough to see two grandchildren born, and I’m still here!
I no longer have great or grandiose plans. I no longer care about things that once took my interest. Along the way, I’ve discarded relationships that I could no longer tolerate, and I now ignore people who aggravate my spirit. I remember a more carefree time when I was willing to risk more, and even was willing to get on the back of a motorcycle of an unknown stranger just because I thought it would be ok.
Sometimes, I wonder what ever happened to those young men who sat around a campfire with me, all of us wondering where we were bound. I hope they had a good life. I know I have. Looking back now, I can safely say that I have no regrets. “… and still I’m on my way.”
Patricia Cummings
Quilter’s Muse Publications
