Life's biggest lesson in Illinois

To many, the 13-mile stretch of road between Jerseyville and Carrollton would be unremarkable. Endless fields of corn plants, maybe some soybeans thrown in here and there. White farmhouses with windmills and weathervanes. A lone John Deere tractor lying idle by the side of Illinois Route 67.\nNothing fascinating, nothing shocking, nothing out of the Midwestern ordinary. Indeed, to many, the Illinois countryside holds nothing of any particular importance.\nBut for H.T. McAdams, the drive from Jerseyville to Carrollton, is what life is all about.\n"A lot of people just drive to get where they want to go," H.T. said to me as we rode past another cornfield. "They never really look to see what their driving by. They miss so much."\nH.T. was born and raised on this same fertile farmland. Rural Illinois is where he is from, and it's where he is living as his life winds down. This is where he belongs.\nHe sits in the passenger seat of my Chevy S-10, his head barely clearing the dashboard. Several years of cancer and chemotherapy have withered his bones and taken away his physical stature. But his mind ... his mind is as sharp as ever. It is a challenge for me just to keep up with him mentally and spiritually.\n"I love driving these roads," I say to him. "There's so much to see. This is pure Americana at its best."\nH.T. smiles at his grandson's comments and nods his head, then sits silently, his gaze fixed on the passing scenes.\nI have come to Carrollton for the weekend to take a break from all that has happened in the last few weeks. Not only has our country been assaulted from the sky, my soul has been assaulted from within. Classes and job responsibilities have started to pile up, as have my fears and self-doubts. It has been getting harder to get out of bed in the morning. It has been getting harder to make it through the day. It has been getting harder to survive.\nIn Carrollton, population 2,700, I hope to find relief. I hope to find some answers, however temporary, to the questions I have floating through me head, questions that I have been trying to answer for many years. Why do I make things hard for myself? Why can't I get my act together? What's the point of fighting anymore?\nAnd, of course, there is the question that has dominated my thoughts for so long: Why even bother at all?\nH.T. and I arrive in Carrollton. I make my way through the little town, driving past the Dairy Queen and the corner gas station. I pull into my grandparents' driveway and come to a stop.\n"Do you need any help?" I ask H.T. as he grabs his cane and opens the passenger door.\n"No, no," he says. "I'm OK."\nHe swings his legs slowly out of the cab and gingerly places his feet on the driveway. Using all the strength he can muster, he slides his thin frame off the seat and out of the truck. He closes the door and stands up as straight as his tortured, brittle bones will let him. He starts edging toward the front door of the house, each step a huge challenge and a minor miracle.\nThis is where he was born. This is where he will die. To many, rural Illinois isn't much to look at. To H.T. McAdams, it's what life is all about.\nSome day very soon, I will no longer have my grandfather. But as I watch him totter along the driveway, I know that he will always be with me. I am given an answer to my biggest question.\nWhy should I even bother?\nBecause that is what life is all about.