I am so tired! But it is a good tired. Yesterday on the road, I wanted to call it “exhaustion,” but that’s such a negative word, especially where there’s good stuff weaved in.

My annual trek to Michigan brought both good and a couple not so good experiences. Others who travel have surely known this, and once you’re back in your own home sweet home, the positive overrides any negative.

The experience is a lot like life itself, isn’t it? We have good days and others that aren’t the best. Challenges and opportunities can test and even grow us. Even surprises aren’t all good, but we learn to accept unexpected happenings and move forward. Some of our best lessons result.

I started out stressed. Leaving my cats is hard, but we have wonderful caregivers who feed and love on them. I couldn’t get my phone to use its voice for directions until I accidentally discovered the right settings at a rest stop just inside Ohio. Good thing. I NEEDED those verbal cues for lane changes and exits during the tricky part of Cleveland, in the rain, with fast traffic. Visually, it’s just too much and I’ve been known to get lost.

While I love to go and see friends, anxiety sets in because of the distance. I don’t mind going alone, but it can have its disadvantages, like no navigator. I don’t know how we did it for solo drives with just the old AAA maps. Once I settle in, I mostly know the way after all the years of beating a path between Michigan and New York.

Similar to my nice book launch in Portville, several friends turned up for a signing at a Tecumseh library, some who knew me from my columns and reporting there, even after a decade. A touching surprise came with the daughter-in-law of a long-time friend who had passed away and I didn’t know it. The friend was the wife of a retired fellow who’d once been my ideal for a substitute bus driver. After his death, I kept in touch with his wife. The younger woman shared how much our connection meant to “mom.”

Panic followed this lovely event. I wanted breadsticks and a salad from a great restaurant I remembered from 10 years ago. Only my wallet was missing! I dumped my purse, retraced my steps, checked the car to no avail. This oversized clutch contained the credit card to pay my hotel, my license, cash and other items. Early in the day, I’d shopped at Meijer, a big store like Walmart. Each year, I purchase a couple new MSU and Tigers shirts for myself.

En route there, a good friend called me. “Calm down,” she said. “It’s waiting at the service desk.” The 15-minute ride was still tense as I wondered if everything would still be in it. I never do things like that, but recall I had to get back into my purse for some extra cash at the register. I must have set down the wallet. God sure blessed me with a happy ending there because all was well! I once read we should photocopy everything in the wallet. I never did. I will now because I had no idea what all it contained (bank cards, too, as it turns out) and each have identifying numbers if you have to reconstruct and notify. Today, we can take phone shots, as long as we don’t lose the phone… Each trip, I like to visit the “Bloom” garden in the Hidden Lake Botanical Garden. Bloom is a little sanctuary area Gordy and colleagues helped start with a successful funding proposal, in memory of Michele. I typically sit on a donated bench with a plate noting their contribution. A friend suggested we picnic there. But the bench was gone! Those in the gift shop had no information, so I’m currently tracking why it would be removed. Repair? Refurbish? Did it break down? A mystery.

As stated, positives outweigh negatives, however. A whirlwind of meet-ups with friends may have contributed to my fatigue (or “good tired”), and most were shared meals and remembrances. When I got lost in the country on roads I once knew intimately from routing school buses, I quietly told Gordy’s spirit, “Okay. You’ve seen the crops. Let’s get to our destination.”

The two young women receiving the Gordy Wuethrich Memorial Scholarship at Sunday’s ceremony were bright, lively and as gracious as their applications and essays promised. One turned out to be the granddaughter of Gordy’s friend and colleague from the Lenawee County Soil Conservation District where he helped write grant proposals.

A special treat awaited my exit. My husband’s three best buddies met me at Bob Evans. We shared memories and “the Gordy table” where he’d often conducted ag business. Before parting, a waitress took our photo underneath words attached to the wall. The “down” isn’t visible, but the words say, “On the Farm.” Pretty appropriate for Gordy’s love of the people and business of agriculture!

(Contact contributor Deb Wuethrich at deborahmarcein@ gmail.com)