I lift my eyes up to the mountains, from where shall come my help?

Over the weekend, I had the privilege/task of chauffeuring Archbishop Smith to Hinton for a parish visit. His Grace is attempting to make such visits to all the parishes in the Archdiocese, above and beyond regular visits such as for Confirmation, and Hinton was on the agenda for last weekend. Since I had no overly large burden of homework, I said yes to Fr. Stephen when I was asked to take on the task of driving the Archbishop and acting as his MC at the Masses.

Now, before I go into the peculiar thoughts that occurred to me during the weekend, let me state that it was a good trip. Hinton is about three hours west of Edmonton, and is just on the edge of the Rocky Mountains, outside Jasper National Park. The Yellowhead Highway runs direct from Edmonton, and we had excellent driving weather, and the highway was quiet. Once in Hinton, we had an excellent reception by the parish. The Masses were good, the socials were good, the people were friendly, and my hosts were charming (due to there only being one spare bedroom in the rectory, the Archbishop stayed there with Fr. Brian while I stayed with a couple parishioners).

Indeed, it was really nice to get away from Edmonton. I think I passed through Hinton when I was five, on our way to B.C., but I have no memory of the event, nor indeed do I ever remember driving the Yellowhead west of Edmonton. It's a gorgeous drive, being mostly in forest and the foothills once you get past the suburbs, and for the last half hour before Hinton the Rockies loom enormous in front of you. I loved the trip, as it took me somewhere I'd never been, somewhere beautiful, and it got me out of the city. It had all the hallmarks of a vacation, except for the company.

And therein lay the most mind-bending part of the trip. Despite having the right conditions for feeling like a really awesome roadtrip or vacation, it was a business trip, and it was just the Archbishop and me. Now His Grace is a really nice and gracious man, and I enjoyed his company, but I really don't know him particularly well (which is a part of the reason he gets seminarians to drive him around), and he is twenty-five years my senior--and my boss.

I don't know... it just felt a little odd, and the fact that I neither had family nor friends along gave me quite a bit of cause for thought as we drove out. Simultaneous with being awestruck by the enjoyment of the adventure, I was quite melancholic with the realisation that that very lack of loved ones was probably going to be a major factor in my future travels.

Thinking on roadtrips, it occurred to me that I'll probably never go on a roadtrip with anyone other than seminarians (or once we're ordained, priests). The constraints of seminary life are such that I'll never have the flexibility to up and go somewhere with other friends from school, and the constraints of being a seminarian are such that while I have many people I call friends at school, precious few of them do or will likely ever see me outside of it, especially within the parameters of just having fun.

Once I'm ordained, I do get four weeks of vacation a year, and most priests I know do like to spend them going on trips--to Europe, to the States, to tropical locales--but they generally all go with their brother priests. While the option is there for me to spend my holidays with non-sacerdotal friends, it is unlikely that I'll have very many close enough that I would invite them or they would invite me, and the older I get, the less likely it is that I'll develop more such friends, while it's certainly likely that I'll lose them.

As for family, while I certainly intend to be as much a member there as possible, the fact is that while holidays such as Thanksgiving may see me at home, they are far more likely to see me in small doses, like visits for the weekend than for anything exciting like traveling. Maybe my parents--except that neither of them are really travelers.

On top of all this travel companion business--about which I'm not sure whether I like it or am neutral to it entirely--there's a more sobering thought about travel which really does strike me. Odds are, most of the traveling I do, especially the grand international stuff will be as much business as pleasure. It concerns me that what should be the awesome events of a lifetime will become the rote duties to be escaped in holidays.

I don't know where I'm going, exactly. I'm feeling quite melancholic about all these thoughts, but I don't see them as bad, or even necessarily as inevitable, but simply as probable. It is, really, just another hallmark of the fact that a priest is not his own man, but is someone set apart, sealed off for the service of God and the Church.