The last few days have been wonderful. Initially, I was going to visit several national parks. But when I got to Utah, I decided to slow down and take more time to enjoy one place longer. I spent two days in the Moab area, spending most of that time in Arches National Park.

In Val and my first year of marriage, we bought a used van and traveled cross country in it, taking out the back seats and putting a sleeping pad there. One of our favorite stops on that trip was Arches, and I wanted to return to remember being there with Val. I hiked to the same spots we had hiked to together, spoke to Val as I hiked, remembered fondly our years and adventures together.

And I realize that I have two stories of coming to Montana for healing.

I dated a woman for many years back in my 20’s. We both had thought at different times that we would marry each other, but it didn’t work out and we broke up (she found a great husband). But the break up really affected me, and I decided I needed to go back to a place that was always healing for me: Glacier National Park. I had worked there for 2 fantastic college summers. At 26 years old and after this break up, I went back to work in Glacier a third summer to help me move on from the pain of the loss of the relationship. I finished that summer, then took a job working at my alma mater, Juniata College, and within a few months everything changed: I met Valerie Schmoyer, who agreed to marry me 2 years later.

Now, 35 years later, I am returning to Montana after the loss of Val, in the hopes of finding my way forward. A bit ironic. Yes, moving to Montana is for other reasons (especially being closer to some of my family), but I do hope that settling here helps me move forward emotionally and relationally. Lead on, Lord Jesus.

Highlights from the past few days-

Hiking in Arches NP

Camping under starry skies

Enjoying another hot spring in Lava Hot Springs, UT

Seeing endless big sky as I drive

Camping at the same remote campground that I camped at with daughters Bekah and Nicole on a long ago road trip

Talking to more strangers

Getting to daughter Emma’s place in Bozeman, MT…and then going to a Bonnie Raitt concert with her at Montana State University (where she works)

And tomorrow, I will drive the last leg of the journey to Whitefish, MT, where I will make my new home.

I close today with a poem from Wendall Berry that a friend sent to me. I lament Berry’s passing earlier this week. May you come into the peace of wild things.

A highlight of the trip so far has been visiting and friends and family along the way. Here is a shout out of thanks to the following people who have hosted, fed, and provided great fellowship along the way.

Bill and Sue Preble, Versailles, IN

Joy and Shane Miller and kids, South Hutchinson, KS

Ray and Linda Hedenburg, Evergreen, CO (and Lisa Giles)

Jeff and Jenny Dougherty, Conifer, CO

When I stop in towns, I have been trying to talk to strangers, and have met some neat people doing so. A recently divorced woman at a brewery in Golden, CO. Wayne, a retired long haul trucker from Iowa in downtown Glenwood Springs. A wonderful family from Wyoming at the Glenwood Springs thermal spa, David, Hannah, Bekah, and Elijah. I normally don't intrude by starting conversation with strangers, but I am challenging myself to do it, with sensitivity, in order to live life to the fullest.

Yesterday, I tried, unsuccessfully, to get a ticket on a steam powered railroad, but still had fun watching it and imagining days gone by in Colorado. I ended up spending most of my day at the Glenwood Hot Springs, which was wonderfully relaxing. And I got a recommendation from a local for some great Mexican food.

I will let the pictures fill in the gaps. Thanks for following along.

The trip has gone quite well with safety on the road, a reliable car that I can camp in, and some beautiful sites and experiences. A highlight was attending a Ray LaMontagne concert last night at Red Rocks.

But even bigger highlight has been connecting with family and friends along the way, sharing food and drink together, finding deep kinship in the shared struggles of life. And talking about how we've grown and aged and changed in the last few decades.

The hardest parts of the trip have been the occasional nights I spend alone…and lonely. I accept that loneliness as part of life for me in this season, but it still is hard. And even though I was with wonderful friends last night, as I sat at the concert I looked around, I saw lots of happy couples, enjoying music and life together. And I wish I had a partner. Then I feel self-pity and the empty feeling of being alone. Yet, I will keep working at making emotional peace with being alone.

I will close this post with a bunch of pictures from the road trip and some Ford family history. My paternal grandfather, and Irish Ford relatives before him, immigrated through St. Louis. According to my grandpa, one of my distant Emerald Isle relatives, a blacksmith, found work shoeing horses for the St. Louis Police Department. Generations after him worked their way into police jobs.

My mom and dad got married in 1958, having just graduated from college, and dad's first job was in St. Louis with Ralston Purina, the dog and cat food maker.

Our family moved to five other states in the decades thereafter as my dad got transferred within the company. But St. Louis has long been a place we value as part of our family origin story.

On August 22, as I left my kids after our vacation in northern Ohio, I first visited my dad's grave in Richmond, Indiana. Then I visited my sister and her husband in Southern Indiana, where my dad grew up, at first on a farm, and then at a small house in town on the railroad tracks.

I also visited Pierceville, Indiana, where my uncle Bob Plump grew up. He led the 1954 Milan high school basketball team to the Indiana state championship, making the winning shot. A tiny rural high school beating the favored much larger high school. The movie Hoosiers was based upon this 1954 team from Milan.

Then I went to St. Louis, where our generation of the Ford family got started, and where dad started with the only company he ever worked for.

We moved a lot and learned to put down roots in each new home. We don't have a generational family homestead that we return to. Wherever we are together as family, that's Home. Yet, it was very special on this trip to spend some time in places that were formative for my dad and our family.

As I write the entry today, I am doing it on my phone (forgive typos as I voice text) while sitting in a McDonald's, sipping coffee, in Dodge City, Kansas. Here's a quick summary of where I've been on this journey.

August 15-left Pennsylvania

Last week - Linwood Park, Vermilion, Ohio - A wonderful and relaxing week of family time

And the stops so far along the westward drive:

August 22-Visited my sister, Sue and her husband Bill, in Versailles, Indiana

August 23-visited St. Louis and reconnected with the Egglestons, friends from a bus trip in Ireland

August 24-Visited Joy and Shane Miller in Kansas, old friends from Camp Hebron days

Today - I am heading for Colorado Springs, Colorado, to see outdoor beauty in that area, then head up to the Denver area to visit some more friends, Go to a concert at Red Rocks, and do some camping and hiking.

Posted are a bunch of pictures from the journey so far.

I had a bit of a poignant moment in St. Louis. St. Louis is where my parents first lived after they were married our first Ford sibling, Mark, was born. And here I was, back in this city, at the foot of the Arch, the gateway to the West (and also very near where Lewis and Clark began their Corps of discovery trip west, and I've always identified with their journey). And I realized that here I stand, Just having turned 66 years old and beginning another journey west to discover, and create, whatever is ahead for me. And here is what I prayed in that moment.

Dear Lord, I am at a gateway into a new chapter of my life. Help me to step forward each day from this moment. Help me to be bold. Help me not to fear or let anything hold me back. Please help me to carry well my sadness and grief, knowing that I haved loved deeply.

Give me an attitude of joy each day. Help me to choose it. And give me moments of beauty, and people, and inspiration that help me to feel happiness and optimism.

The chapter of my living in the east closes for now. The compass now points west. Lead on, Lord Jesus.

I am reading a book by K.J. Ramsey, The Place Between Our Pains, and as I try to intentionally choose joy and hope each new day, the following from Ramsey struck me.

Joy is not the opposite of sorrow. It’s not the absence of grief, but the surprise, sensed over and over, that the truest sense of who we are is that we are connected. Joy is defining that underneath your life, no matter how far you have fallen, nor how much you hurt, the web of love still holds holds.

I am realizing anew, and deeply grateful for, so many good people in my life that have made that web of support and joy for me, that have loved me. Life may well continue to be hard, I can always be grateful for the joy I get from being well loved by good people.

I'm counting on that human web of support going forward. I have felt it already with the family and friends that I have been with on this trip west. And I pray to be surprised by it in new friends that I make in the days and weeks ahead. Thanks to all of you who are my friends, Who have influenced my life, who have cared about me and prayed for me. You are joy and hope to me.

Each day going forward, my morning prayer is something along the lines of ‘help me choose joy today, Lord. Surprise me with people and beauty along the way. Give me courage to seize each moment.’

Enough for now. Thanks for reading. It's time to get back in the car and meander further west!

As mentioned in my previous Caring Bridge post, I am going to discontinue posting on Caring Bridge, and continuing to post on Substack. I have sent a link on my Caring Bridge page to allow you to sign up to receive my Substack posts by email, if you so desire.

This change comes about for three reasons. First, while my medical journey continues (the hip infection/treatment will remain part of my new normal), it is no longer the main focus of my journey, and accordingly, Caring Bridge no longer the most appropriate format to communicate. Caring Bridge, thank you. You have been a wonderful place for us to share the Ford family medical journey, and through Caring Bridge, we have received an outpouring of care, love, prayer, and support.

Secondly, a number of you have said that my vulnerability, honesty, and writing has been interesting, helpful in your own journey, and even sometimes inspiring, and you’ve encouraged me to continue writing. Thank you; I’m glad and grateful that something I write might be useful or encouraging to someone. This move to Substack is me taking the hint from you to keep writing, at least occasionally.

Third, I’m in a time of transition, a journey of creating my new normal, a time of intentional meandering as I travel to, then make, a new home and community. I’m presently in the process of driving to Montana. I hope to see some beautiful places and people along the way, I plan to camp, read, and reflect in the woods. My occasional Substack postings going forward will share the road trip getting there, and the journey going forward. Welcome, friends.

I sold my house in PA at the end of July. I got rid of most of my possessions, taking to Montana only a 4’x6’ trailer of material goods. I am currently enjoying a week of vacation with my family at Linwood Park in Vermillion, Ohio, on Lake Erie, where some of the best moments of the day are morning coffee on the screened in front porch, holding my grandson Rowan, laughing with my family.

Tomorrow, we’ll all head home after a wonderful week together. And I will begin in earnest my drive west to make a new home. My road trip will be a purposeful meander, connecting with old friends and creation - southern IN, St. Louis, KS, then into CO. I’ll share more reflections on the way. Included are some photos of our family at Lake Erie

I close with this wonderful blessing from Jan Richardson for any that are betwixt and between.

Blessing for the Place Between

When you come
to the place between.

When you have left
what you held
most dear.

When you are traveling
toward the life
you know not.

When you arrive
at the hardest ground.

May it become
for you
a place to rest.

May it become
for you
a place to dream.

May the pain
that has pressed itself
into you
give way
to vision,
to knowing.

May the morning
make of it
an altar,
a path,
a place to begin
again.

© Jan Richardson from The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief. janrichardson.com