What Driving for 53 Hours Alone Taught Me About Grief and Trust

What’s worse than driving across the country once? 

Driving across the country twice.

There is nothing quite like 53 hours in a car with nothing but your thoughts and a dry-heaving, anxious, elderly dog. One of us was taking anxiety medication for the trip, and unfortunately, it wasn’t me.

Chasing 5000km of Change

If you read my first post, you know that I am living life without a timeline or a road map. I am not sure where I am going but I know that I am chasing things that feel good. Recently, that meant packing up my Subaru and driving from Gatineau, Quebec, all the way back home to Vancouver Island, British Columbia.

During the road trip home I relied heavily on double-doubles and nerd clusters (road trip essentials, obviously). But no matter how much sugar I consumed or music I blasted, nothing really made the 12-hour solo driving days enjoyable. Still, I kept reminding myself it would all be worth it once I saw the ocean again.

Catastrophic Thoughts and a lot of Gretchen Wilson

In the days leading up to the drive I was honestly quite concerned about my mental resilience. If you know me, you know that I’ve got a special talent for turning a single thought into a full-blown crisis in under 60 seconds. And the thought of driving for hours alone, with all the time in the world to worry excessively? Yikes.

But, to be completely transparent, I didn’t have a damn thought the entire trip. Honestly, no thoughts at all. It’s like my mind knew that I was on a mission, and that I had to stay alert and present.

I just listened to my music (Here For the Party by Gretchen Wilson), podcasts (Second Hand Therapy) and focused on the road.

Turns out, sometimes the best way forward is just putting one foot in front of the other… or, one mile after another.

There is Grief in Every Decision

I think what grounded me throughout the entire journey is that I trust myself enough to know that I am going in the right direction. I might not know where the final destination is, but I feel it deep in my soul that I am at least on the right path.

And if I’m wrong? That’s okay too. The beauty of being the author of your own life is that if you don’t like how a chapter is ending, you have the power and control to change it.

Yet no matter what choice we make in life, there is a semblance of grief in every decision, for every path we didn’t take.

I feel beyond excited to be back on the island, reconnecting with old friends, being back with my mother (who doubles as a best friend), and being steps away from the ocean. My soul feels at peace. But, I have left behind friends, and family. I am grieving the Carlene that I was in Quebec, the routine that I built, and the what ifs if I stayed.

A Thank You to Quebec

Over the last three and a half years in Gatineau, I built an incredible life. One full of caring, adventurous, and curious people. A community that lifted each other up and was constantly encouraging growth and learning.

Saying goodbye to something like that isn’t easy.

But I’ve found an unexpected beauty in the pain of saying goodbye to this chapter. The hurt I am feeling shows that I’ve left behind something deeply meaningful and worth every moment.

And really, I’ll be back again.

So, to my Quebec friends and family. This isn’t a goodbye.

It’s just — I’ll see you later.

I may not have it all figured out, but life doesn’t demand certainty — just movement.

So I’ll keep going: one mile, one step, one decision at a time.