I remember packing nearly everything I owned in the back of my dad’s 1973 Chevelle and driving down I-95. About five hours of interstate, me, and a rattling radio. I remember beating on the dash to make it turn on again. I remember singing when it wouldn’t.
I remember my legs plastered to the black, pleather seats as sweat beads popped out on my forehead. I remember strands of hair stuck to the side of my face. I remember driving without air conditioning, cruise control, or GPS. I remember folded maps in my glove box. I remember taking wrong turns, but never really feeling lost.
I remember what it was like when something was wrong with my car and I knew how to fix it. I remember adding transmission fluid and checking the oil. I remember driving until my butt and feet hurt because I just had to make it back before my job started at 5.
I remember it all. I remember it like it was a different girl, another life, far down I-95 south in Horry County.
I teach English part-time at Appomattox Regional Governor's School, and I write creative nonfiction. My essays have appeared in Sasee, Skirt!, Chicken Soup for the Soul and Farm and Ranch Living. I love reading, traveling, and seeking joy!