The old man got tired of trying. Every time he got up the gumption to do something it would just fall through. He made plans; always making plans. Wanted to go to Idaho or Northern California. Maybe Washington state or just hang out in Utah for awhile; didn’t matter, he’d be silent no matter where he went; just keep to himself. He found that to be the best way.

So, he loaded up the old Ford and took off on a trip ‘cross America; longing to see land he’d never seen before; left Vermont in the middle of the night; headed south then west; he was in no hurry.

The retired janitor made it a point to stop and take pictures along the way. He would take shots of old oaks and tall maples in the Midwest. Snapped photos of skyscrapers in Minneapolis; looked on in awe.

All those years of cleaning up after kids had left him a little dough. It was his thought to spend it all; not take it with him in the next life. As he drove, he thought about the next life.

Were the Hindus right? Maybe the Christians and they’re belief in grace had the right notion. Perhaps the Jews, God’s chosen ones who were still waiting for a messiah, someone to come and save us from this world, could be they were right?

He thought about this as he mumbled along to old songs by Conway Twitty, The Statler Brothers, Marty Robbins. The old man believed he saw God at three in the morning out on the highway running through Nebraska; the mind plays tricks on you; at least his did.

As he got closer to Idaho it dawned on him. Was he in search of America, or God? Maybe in searching for one he had discovered the other.

He pulled the pickup over to the side of the road on the outskirts of Boise. Took in a breath and called out to Jehovah, My Lord, my Lord. What magnificence you have created.

The old man could now die in peace. And, that’s all he ever wanted.