Out From Under Me.


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Bobbie J. from Michigan shares her emotional travel tale. I am sure you will find it inspirational and encouraging.
— Annette

OUT FROM UNDER ME

Submitted by Bobbie J. from Ypsilanti, Michigan

Armed with my mother's photo and remembrance of her life. I began my solo journey to her birthplace she talked so little about. Not knowing what was in front of me, escaping what lies behind. I braced myself for new discoveries about to be unleashed into my life. This trip is a first all away round. This impetus journey would be my first plane ride alone, my first trip by myself, period, also my first time visiting Savannah, GA.

My mother's birthplace is what they call beautiful country, so I'm told. April 23, 2000. Easter Sunday, here I go- there's no turning back now.

Time to find out if the legendary southern town that gave birth to the women that gave birth to me, holds as much beauty and wisdom as she did. My heart is in a state of flip-flop. I'm praying that it will be a peaceful experience. Supposedly, there's a boycott going on, orchestrated by the Reverend Jesse Jackson himself. Am I trying to be brave or just being a damn fool? I have to keep telling myself that everything will be o.k. if I don't - I'd be passed out somewhere. My ride to the Airport is right on time, cool.

As I made my way to the ticked counter I realized that this was a journey that had to take place. I've spent my entire life being afraid to go anywhere, do anything or just be, without someone by my side. My body finally calmed down and I began to relax and look around me. I thought this won't be so bad - actually I thought If I every have to travel by myself again I'll travel on the holiday - less people at the airport. There I go plotting again, how I can make my life safe and free from uncertainty. It doesn't work. I should know that by now. No matter how much I plan, life always finds a way to throw me a curve ball. He.., it digs me a ditch and places a fancy covering over it and I fall right in.

But, that's history, I'm springing into a new day, and a brighter day. Despite at the age of thirty three, I've lost both mom and dad - numerous jobs, and my faith in people to a certain extent. I'm determined to make the most of my Savannah trip. Hoping I'll return with wisdom and a deeper understanding of myself and my relationship to my mother and how my life and hers relates. Her passing cultivated a need for me to understand her past, so maybe I'd understand my future.

I hear laughter all around me couples, families, friends - I guess that's why people travel together - help each other out. Being alone however, helps me focus on the things I would have missed if I'd been wrapped up in a partners polemic trappings. Touch down. The first leg of my journey from Detroit to Atlanta was smooth - now it's onto Savannah. By now I realized that this is something that I had to do - that I could do. It is something very liberating about a personal, solo journey that really can't be explained in words.

The last leg from Atlanta to Savannah only took thirty-four minutes. There is an unbelievable peace and satisfaction I feel, just coming this far. I would have never thought sheltered, scared, shut-in little old me could do it. This has been therapeutic as well as ministering. However, I gathered very few leads to go on regarding my mother's living relatives, but I'm still hopeful. My past is scattered - but then again time will bring me back to discover something I may have missed and to behold beauty and grace one more time. I almost forgot to mention that this magnificent voyage almost didn't happen. Two months to the day that my plane departed from Detroit Metro, my husband of seventeen years walked out on me without so much as a note. He called to tell me he was filing for divorce, so, in that moment - knowing the last of everything that could have been pulled out from under me was, but with God's grace I keep moving forward. So Savannah, let the party begin.


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