I went to Walmart. Not the normal kind, but a Super Center. I drove around the parking lot to scope out potential parking spots. In the back next to palettes of stacked soil bags. Only one other car parked nearby. A red minivan with a metal ladder strapped to the roof. Perfect. I can blend in here. If a red minivan can be here, then so can I.
I park front facing the palettes so no one can look in. Thankfully the cheap little SUV I bought had the back windows tinted, so I only had the front windows to worry about.
My cell service stopped working the minute I crossed the bridge from Detroit into Ontario. I was in laying in the back of my car now. Nestled In between my luggage, a sleeping bag, and my travel back pack. The bed was comfortable, but i couldn’t stretch my legs. That’s what you get for buying a compact SUV, idiot. I brought my own memory foam mattress from home. I even brought my bed sheets and pillows. Good pillows are hard to come by.
I laid there, listening to the rain drops hitting my the roof of my car. It’s a pleasant sound. Rain just falling. It was my lullaby that night. I drove for ten hours. Only stopped twice for fuel and food.
I was aching. A little sad about the uncertainty of this outing. How does anyone do this, I wondered.
I’m afraid of being homeless. Yet here I am sleeping in my car in a Walmart parking lot.
I thought about my family. My mom, whom I love beyond measure. Someone who taught me what unconditional love was, and that I deserved it. The one who I get every ounce of goodness from. I never wanted to go far from her. It was never easy to be.
My oldest sister, Khatira. Who always amazed me by her willingness to give. She supported me even when she had little to give. She covered for me even when I should’ve been more responsible. I missed her. It’s funny, you have to go far way sometimes to feel close to people. The important ones.
Writing while laying in the back of my car that night kept me feeling okay. I felt better writing my thoughts, at least I had my notepad to talk to.