Don’t Waste the Moments That Matter: A Rainy Road Trip to Tulsa

Don’t Waste the Moments That Matter: A Rainy Road Trip to Tulsa

By a.d. elliott | Take the Back Roads - Art and Other Odd Adventures

 Dear Henry,

I had plans after we moved to Arkansas. One of them was simple: to take a day trip to Tulsa, go to Mass and have brunch with my old crew from St. Henry’s, and maybe even film a reel, a little travel vignette down the Cherokee Turnpike with Don Williams’ “Tulsa Time” playing in the background.

But things rarely unfold the way we imagine, do they? And thinking we have “plenty of time” is always the most dangerous mistake of all.

I kept telling myself I would go “next week” or “after things settled down.” I was so sure there would be time. But I was wasting time, the worst indulgence of all, and when I finally made it back to Tulsa last week, it wasn’t for a brunch. It was for a Mass of the Resurrection.

One of my friends from St. Henry's, the great Miss G, had died suddenly, from a massive heart attack.

I did get to have lunch with the rest of the ladies afterward, but I was so sad thinking of the one empty seat. I had waited too long. I had missed her because I didn’t make time when I had it.

The weather matched the mood, a cold, constant rain that followed me for the entire two-hour drive there and back. Still, the solitude gave me the space I needed. I prayed all of Miss G’s favorite devotions as the wipers swept rhythmically across the windshield, the Hallow app guiding me through each rosary and chaplet.

There was grief, of course. But there was also closure.

On the drive home, with rain still blurring the late-November landscape, I kept thinking about how certain people quietly shape our lives. Miss G was one of those souls, steady, kind, faithfully present in the small things. She never wasted time on hesitation or “someday.” She simply showed up.

And it struck me how I don't always do the same.

I can’t change the missed brunches or the conversations we’ll never share. But I can choose differently now. I can stop assuming there will always be more time, more chances, more tomorrows. I can stop letting “later” become an excuse that steals the people and moments that matter.

This trip, unexpected, sad, and soaked in cold rain, became its own small pilgrimage. A reminder from God, and from Miss G, to live with more intention. To make the call. To take the drive. To show up while the people we love are still here to show up for.

I will miss her.

But I am grateful for the lesson she left behind:

Don’t wait.

Don’t waste the moments that matter.

With love,

a.d. elliott

_____________________________________________________________________________

About the Author
a.d. elliott is a wanderer, photographer, and storyteller based in Tontitown, Arkansas.

She shares her journeys at Take the Back Roads, explores new reads at Rite of Fancy, and highlights U.S. military biographies at Everyday Patriot.

You can also browse her online photography gallery at shop.takethebackroads.com.

✨ #TakeTheBackRoads

Enjoyed this post? Support the adventure by visiting my sponsors, shopping the gallery, or buying me a cup of coffee!