Endless Tracks, Lingering Loss

After Union Station in DC, one of the nicest stations in America, Virginia offers beautiful scenery. However, the landscape shifts to dense woods and quiet, sleepy towns once you cross the North Carolina border and continue through South Carolina on Amtrak.

Watching the world roll by from somewhere near Bryan Park, just outside Richmond. The city itself is a major hub, yet its train stations—like many across the South—feel almost forgotten. No towering grandeur like Penn Station in Philadelphia or New York, no bustling energy—just a quiet, tucked-away stop in the outskirts, lost in an industrial zone.

If I were bound for Savannah, I'd expect more of the same along the tracks: long stretches of nothing, landscapes of woods that offer little distraction through North Carolina and South Carolina to the Georgia border.

Distraction is needed, though. I fight to stay buoyant, keeping my thoughts from sinking beneath the weight of my mother’s passing. Expected, yet still untimely for us. In her final days, she carried a vitality that made the silence, the glassy-eyed distance, all the more shocking when it arrived. A cousin mentioned that, near the end, her skin changed—beautiful, like that of a Native American. A transformation, a quiet farewell. My only prayer is that she, like my father before her, now rests peacefully.

But grief is never just grief. It doesn’t just break the heart—it throws the whole world off balance. Loss, when survival is already precarious, becomes more than sorrow—it turns into struggle. A sudden hardship, a financial blow.

In New York’s unforgiving sprawl, after the bills drain the account, what remains barely covers the essentials. June arrives, and so do decisions: what accounts to pause, what subscriptions to erase, how to simply make it through the next week, the next meal.

The dead may sleep, but for those left behind, rest is a distant luxury. Life does not soften in grief—it hardens.

We remember because remembering is all we can do. Their burdens are complete. Ours stretch ahead, lingering like the tracks beneath this train—long, uncertain, without a clear end in sight.

The scenic Pee Dee River area adds a refreshing break to the journey as the train crosses into South Carolina, passing South of the Border and Dillon on its way to Florence, SC, a key stop near McLeod Hospital.

One of the numerous hotel chains off I-95 on West Lucas Street in Florence is perfectly situated near a Farmers Market, 24-hour travel centers, and a selection of chain restaurants such as Ruby Tuesday, Quincy's Steakhouse, Cracker Barrel, Cookout, and more, as well as the TA Center with its decent coffee.

The West Lucas/I-95 corridor in the Florence area boasts a variety of hotels, including Tru by Hilton, Wyndham Howard Johnson, Hampton Inn and Suites, Super 8 Motel, Days Inn, and Microtel.

A family enjoys a meal at Ruby Tuesday's on West Lucas Street.

Well, you can't go wrong with just the salad bar and a Long Island Iced Tea on an empty stomach at Ruby Tuesday's.

A major rest stop along I-95, open 24 hours, TA Florence Travel Center offers decent coffee, hot food, snacks, and a variety of items like clothing, phone chargers, and car accessories.

Extreme Coffee is decent, but it’s not strong enough to satisfy true coffee enthusiasts.

I’ve never eaten here, but I’ve heard it was once decent and fun, with the key emphasis on "was."