road trip

Reflections on a Road Trip: Nashville, Cincinnati, and Cleveland

/ nagneberg48 / 6 Comments

October 10, 2023

The Ohio River.

Our granddaughter is spending first semester of her junior year of college in Greece. Many people have asked us if we are planning to visit her, and I have responded by saying, “This is Maren’s adventure, and we will be her most interested, enthusiastic, and avid listeners when she returns home.” Some people seem puzzled by my answer, but others nod in understanding. One person said to me, “How wise. This is her time.” Now I should add that her parents and brother will be visiting her, but that is a different dynamic, and we are thrilled they have that opportunity.

Our days of international travel are done. We had some amazing trips to Bucket List places, but our sights have turned more inward–as in within the borders of this country. More manageable, but no less interesting or valuable, I think. This recent road trip is an example.

In the fall we enjoy driving to Cleveland to visit our beloved son and daughter-in-love. This year we decided to meander a bit before landing in Cleveland. On my Bookstore Bucket List was Ann Patchett’s bookstore, Parnassus Books in Nashville. (See my Thursday, October 5 post.) Also, a friend had recently visited and recommended the National Underground Railroad Museum in Cincinnati. The itinerary became clear.

This is What I Didn’t Do

  • Take enough pictures.
  • Clean/cook/do laundry.
  • Check email. Well, that isn’t exactly true, but rather I didn’t respond to email or read what wasn’t absolutely necessary.
  • Meditate, except to gaze out the car windows.
  • Write in my journal or do any writing at all. I didn’t do any planning of future classes either.
  • Watch any tv, YouTube videos, or even listen to much on the radio.
  • Sleep very well, but I slept well enough. Why is it I wonder why so many hotels have such high beds, which are not easy for those of us who are old and short?
  • Buy any souvenirs.
  • Worry about the week after vacation.

This is What I Did Do

  • Relaxed
  • Enjoyed the drive, except for the traffic in Nashville.
  • Read during our quiet evenings.
  • Appreciated good food fixed by other people: True Food in Nashville; Eagle Food and Beer, Skyline Chili and Graetner’s Ice Cream in Cincinnati; and Mama Catana’s and Brew Dog in Cleveland.
  • Did my part to support independent bookstores.
  • Loved our spacious and leisurely time with our son and daughter-in-love. Catching up and moving forward in one another’s lives. The best.
  • Wandered in and out of interesting shops, including City Farmhouse in Franklin, TN and Patina Home and Garden in Leipers Fork, TN. In both cases I have home decor books written by the owners and enjoyed meeting them in person. I am always inspired by well-curated shops, but realize more and more how my needs and desires have become more spare.
How fun to see “my” vintage turkey plates for sale and so beautifully displayed.
  • Reminisced about our years in Cleveland. Returning there is always bittersweet–we loved our years at Sweetwater Farm, but the decision to return “home” was a good one. However, we miss our Cleveland kids.
  • Wondered why more hotels can’t have personality like Graduate in Cincinnati.
  • Entertained new thoughts and just let them flow. Who knows where they will take me.
  • Appreciated the variety of colors and textures at the Cincinnati Conservatory.
  • Made a new friend.

Here’s What Expanded Me, Moved Me, Opened Me: The National Underground Railroad Freedom Center in Cincinnati

The mission of this museum, which opened in 2004, is “to pursue inclusive freedom by promoting social justice for all, building on the principles of the Underground Railroad.” We spent over three hours in the museum and could have stayed even longer, but our hearts and minds overflowed and ached with all we learned about the history of enslavement and the resulting urge for freedom.

Perhaps I was most moved by the Slave Pen, built in the 1800s by Kentucky slave trader, Capt. John W. Anderson to temporarily warehouse enslaved people, as many as 300 at a time in a space no larger than our garage, until they were sold further south. The structure, which was discovered in Mason, KY, less than 60 miles from the museum, was moved piece by piece and rebuilt inside the museum. A sacred place.

At one point we sat and waited for one of the recommended films to begin and I overheard a conversation among two groups of visitors. It turns out they were all from Wisconsin. We could easily have joined in the conversation, but no, they weren’t talking about this experience. Rather, they were talking about the Green Bay Packers. Really? I thought later, as I stood on the terrace where there is a flame, which will stay lit until there is justice for all, how important it is to learn about our history, for only then can we create a new history for those who come after us.

Gazing at the Ohio River, once the border between a free state and the slave state of Kentucky, I thought about all the ways there are still barriers between those who are free and those who are not.

Home, Again

Of course, it is always good to get home–otherwise, it wouldn’t be home, but the value of travel, whether near or far, is not what you’ve seen or done, not what items on the bucket list you’ve checked off. Rather, how have you changed? How have you grown? And what does that mean in the way you live your life? I sort through that as I continue to reflect.

An Invitation

What role has travel played in your life? I would love to know.

Book Report: Between Two Kingdoms, A Memoir of a Life Interrupted by Suleika Jaouad

/ nagneberg48 / 3 Comments

At age 22 Suleika Jaouad learned she had leukemia and a 35 percent chance of survival.

Devastating. Obviously.

Much of the book details the four years of round after round of chemo, a clinical trial, and a bone marrow transplant, and near-death reckonings –written clearly and beautifully. This is all important, but what really moved me in this book was the honest revelations about herself, a young woman going through such crushing pain and uncertainty, and about her needs and desires, met and unmet.

I bent over the sink and splashed my face with cold water and looked in the mirror. I looked terrible–because I was horrible, I thought, with a nauseating swell of shame. Along with the chemo, an ugliness was coursing through my veins. Small violences. Swallowed resentment. Buried humiliations. Displaced fury. And a marrow-deep weariness at a situation that dragged on…

p. 162

When her medical team declares her cured, she learns the healing needs to begin. Jaouad quotes Susan Sontag in her book Illness as Metaphor, “Everyone who is born holds dual citizenship, in the kingdom of the well and in the kingdom of the sick.” In part healing means navigating from the kingdom of the sick to the kingdom of the well and to honor that she embarks on a pilgrimage, a 100 day road trip. In response to the column she wrote for the New York Times about being so young and having cancer, many people wrote to her about their own stories, and she decides to visit some of them, including a man on Death Row in Texas.

He understands what it feels like to feel stuck in purgatory, awaiting the news of your fate; the loneliness and claustrophobia of being confined to a small room for endless stretches of time; how it’s necessary to get inventive in order to keep yourself sane. These unexpected parallels are what initially compelled him to write to me, “You’ve fled death in your own personal prison just like I continue to face death in mine…At the end of the day death is death, doesn’t matter the form it takes.”

p. 338

Throughout those long years her family was there for her completely. As was her boyfriend–until he wasn’t. Caretaking is not easy, especially when you are just starting out in your own life. Jaouad shares all the ways he sacrificed for her and expressed his love, and she is deeply grateful, but ultimately, the reality of her needs was too much. A certain bitterness remains and more healing needs to occur beyond the last page of the book.

Healing is figuring out how to coexist with the pain that will always live inside of you, without pretending it isn’t there or allowing it to hijack your day. It is learning to confront ghosts and to carry what lingers.

p. 312

Fun Fact: Jaouad recently married the gifted musician, Jon Batiste.

My copy of the book is feathered with tabs, and I could have marked many more memorable passages. I am grateful for the wisdom and openness found on these pages, and offer a prayer that her cancer days are over forever and that healing continues in her life.

An Invitation:

What have you read recently that encouraged your own healing? I would love to know.