Getting
Lost
I’ve
become quite adept at getting lost.
One
time, camping, as teenagers,
my
friend and I walked in the woods
while
my parents went fishing.
I
didn’t want to go back the same way we came.
We
got completely lost, then found a road.
We
followed it until a single car went by
and
we asked directions.
We
arrived just before my parents returned,
saving
them some worry time.
One
time, I dropped my sister off in Lincoln
so
she could return something at the store.
As
the rain poured,
I
was to drive around the block.
I
didn’t want to go back the same way I came.
As
I weaved my way through the streets,
my
sister waited in the rain.
When
I finally found her
she
was pretty upset and wet
She
has forgotten about it. I haven’t.
One
time, a friend and I would go shopping
But
first she had to finish a college project.
I’d
walk around the unfamiliar campus
and
meet her in an hour.
I
didn’t want to go back the same way I came.
Three
hours later I found her.
I
had forgotten the name of the building.
“Hens
lick,” she said flapping her arms
and
wiggling her tongue in and out.
I
still remember if forty years later.
In
finding another way back
I
discovered some interesting things,
but
it took me awhile to learn
I
don’t always have to be a trailblazer.
Retracing
steps can be a good thing.
Especially
for those who worry about you,
are
getting wet, or are waiting to go shopping.
