Hello, dear friends.
I’m new here, and I hope you’ll allow me a moment to introduce myself.
I’m a widow now — and in that quiet space between what was and what will be, I find myself holding onto something I never expected to keep: our beloved RV motorhome.
It was my late husband’s pride and joy. He was the wanderer, the planner, the one with grease on his hands and a map in his lap. I was simply his co-pilot, happy to brew the coffee and fold the blankets. But now… the motorhome is mine. And somehow, it feels wrong to let it sit still.
So here I am — a woman of a certain age, a little less brave than I pretend to be, but determined to learn. I don’t know much about engines or hookups or tire pressure. What I do know is that this home-on-wheels still has miles left in her. And perhaps… so do I.
I would be grateful for your kindness, your patience, and maybe a little of your wisdom.
With a hopeful heart,
A new friend on the road
I’m new here, and I hope you’ll allow me a moment to introduce myself.
I’m a widow now — and in that quiet space between what was and what will be, I find myself holding onto something I never expected to keep: our beloved RV motorhome.
It was my late husband’s pride and joy. He was the wanderer, the planner, the one with grease on his hands and a map in his lap. I was simply his co-pilot, happy to brew the coffee and fold the blankets. But now… the motorhome is mine. And somehow, it feels wrong to let it sit still.
So here I am — a woman of a certain age, a little less brave than I pretend to be, but determined to learn. I don’t know much about engines or hookups or tire pressure. What I do know is that this home-on-wheels still has miles left in her. And perhaps… so do I.
I would be grateful for your kindness, your patience, and maybe a little of your wisdom.
With a hopeful heart,
A new friend on the road

