The Indirect Route

In May 2011, I made another excursion to New Hampshire. I told only one friend of the intended trip, just to get input from a respected opinion. I could sense something of a lecture on his lips, but he settled on saying only, "you be careful."
I was careful about everything but time. Even though I had left in early morning, I had dawdled too long and the angle of the setting sun also worked against me. I got on the highway home in the wrong direction. Darkness fell fast, and I was not quite certain of my wrong turn until it was too late. I’d driven only in areas I knew well enough to know where I was going without the use of landmarks that I could not quite see. The first time I got off the highway to turn around, I ended up getting back on in the wrong direction again.
I got off the highway and grabbed a bite at a burger joint. I had tried being subtle by reading the receipt to get my location, but I couldn’t see the receipt either. All forms of vision were getting slowly but steadily worse. I had to ask where I was, always a humbling experience. I was feeling very young and vulnerable and that I had seriously overstepped my bounds.
I remembered the way to the highway from the burger joint. When I got to the big sign that gave directions, I pulled the jeep off the road and got out of the car to read the street sign I otherwise could not see, just to make sure I headed in the right direction home.
I’d gone home to Providence from Nashua, New Hampshire via Worcester, Massachusetts.
It was my last excursion. The experience disheartened me. The third setback let loose within a couple weeks, leaving me less capable even after that setback mostly faded. Even shorter neighborhood trips seemed unworthy of the stress and effort. Even in the summer I was accepting rides to bowling because I did not feel confident driving home in the dark. I simply let go of more and more of my self sufficiency, moreso after my eyes began the Autumn 2011 slow fade without another obvious setback.
For the most part, I had stopped driving by September, 2011.
For the most part...