Freedom Seen through the Car Windshield
During the early time of my life in Atlanta, every day driving home, I would take a right turn at the traffic signal near Freedom Park. Other than that one turn, my route home was a straight one. Due to my busy schedule, I would frequently pass through that area late in the night.
Close to the traffic signal where I often had to stop and wait for the light to change, there was a gigantic stone on which the name of the park was carved. While I would wait for the traffic signal, I often would look at the park briefly through the front windshield of my car.
The name of the park sounded interesting, but unfortunately, due to a rising slope close to the street, my view of the park was completely blocked. The realm beyond the stone sign was an unexplored world to me
While waiting for the traffic light to change and looking at the street sign of the park that boldly gazed at me, I used to promise myself that I would visit the park on a fine day to enjoy the “freedom.” I repeatedly promised as such whenever I passed by there, but like most people, I never managed to find the time to keep that promise.
On the day I was scheduled to move from Atlanta to Phoenix, I realized I had some free time before my flight check-in. Considering what I could do during that short break, I was reminded of the park. Fortunately, the park was on the way to the airport. The weather that day wasn’t bad, despite the fact that the weather of Atlanta was typically not to my liking.
In the park, looking back on my past life in Atlanta, I realized that mind-boggling neighbors, snobby and opportunistic school peers, and friend-like acquaintances who would ignore my texts for whatever unknown reasons had vanished away from my life journey. Instead, small hills and clouds in shapes that I like have remained in my memory of the town where I used to live.
With constant pressure from various issues, and very few chances to feel true freedom, my life’s chapter in Atlanta came to an end and was wrapped up that day. Perhaps, the freedom that the Freedom Park indicates might mean freedom from that life in Atlanta for me.
I left Atlanta as such.