EXCERPT: All You’ll See Is Sky: Resetting a Marriage on an Adventure Through Africa 

All You’ll See Is Sky: Resetting a Marriage on an Adventure Through Africa

Despite having everything she could ask for, Janet Wilson couldn’t shake a sense of emptiness in her life—or her desire to return to the continent of her birth. After much back-and-forth, she and her husband reached an agreement: they would embark on a daring adventure, driving 25,000 miles across Africa. What they couldn’t anticipate then was how this trip would challenge almost every belief, opinion, and value they held.

Over the course of their journey, Janet and her husband collided with the world and each other. There were tears and laughter. They shared thrilling highlights and challenges that forced them to negotiate and cooperate with one another. And after a heartbreaking tragedy and Janet’s arrest, they made critical decisions that transformed their relationship, bringing them to a level of trust and commitment they had never before experienced. Ultimately, this led them to a deeper understanding about their place in the world—and each other’s lives.

A suspenseful and emotional true account that explores themes of love, commitment, resilience, and the power of forgiveness in the face of adversity, All You’ll See is Sky is a memoir of a woman’s transformation from brokenness to wholeness and a couple’s transformation from breakdown to breakthrough.

EXCERPT

Calgary, Canada, 2005 

In February 2005, twenty-five years after my husband, Tom, and I had immigrated from South Africa to Canada, I stood at our kitchen window and watched the crisp winter sun set over the snowy Rocky Mountains. Though the sight was beautiful, my mind was elsewhere— thousands of miles away—in a place where that same sun would rise a few hours later to illuminate the golden dunes of the Sahara Desert and filter its warm beams through the tangled jungle of the Central African rainforests. 

I glanced at my watch. It was 5:53 p.m. Tom would be home from work any minute, but the minutes couldn’t pass quickly enough. The sound of my breathing broke the stillness, and my heart thumped against my chest. No matter how many times I ran through the whatifs in my mind, I just couldn’t be sure what to expect from the significant, life-altering change I was about to set in motion. But I knew there would be no turning back. My decision had been made. 

I heard the crack and then the whining hum of the garage door opening, and Tom’s black SUV roared into the garage. Moments later, he opened the back door, as he had done every workday for the thirty-five years of our marriage, and yelled, “Hi, I’m home.”

 His well-worn brown leather briefcase hit the floor with a thud. He turned, hung up his black suit jacket in the entrance closet, and removed his shoes before loosening his tie—his corporate noose, as I called it. I stood still and watched his every move. He walked toward 2 All You’ll See is Sky me to hug me. But I could no longer consider it as anything other than an empty embrace. 

I stood rigid, my arms frozen at my sides, and blurted out, “We need to talk. I’ve got something to tell you.” 

Tom stepped back, and his amber eyes flickered, scanning my face for answers. Anxious and determined not to be sidetracked, I turned and walked out of the kitchen. He followed without a word, the sound of his footsteps behind me like a heavy drumbeat. I sat down on the sofa, and Tom lowered himself into the easy chair opposite. For several seconds, I looked at my husband closely, a man who seemed to have everything, a successful businessman and a good father. But the change I was determined to put into motion didn’t depend on him. 

Even so, I wasn’t as composed as I had planned to be. All of a sudden, my words just tumbled forth. “I want out of this life. I can’t keep on like this. I just can’t.” 

I closed my eyes as if wanting to make Tom disappear. When I opened them again, I saw that he had remained motionless. Seconds passed, and still, he said nothing. Almost in desperation, afraid I’d lose my advantage or my will if I waited too long, I forced myself to continue. 

“Today, I asked myself, if I had one year to live, what would I do? And I decided”—the words gushed out as if already on a journey—“I’m going to drive the length of Africa, from Cape Town to Cairo.” 

Tom looked at me without blinking. The muscles around his mouth twitched. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. 

His voice trembled. “You’re leaving me?” 

I shifted on the sofa, not sure if leaving him was my only intention. Somehow, it was primarily my decision to return to Africa, and not just the state of our relationship, that urgently drove me forward. 

His eyes pierced through me. “Why are you doing this?” he said with an edge to his voice. 

I swallowed hard and fought to keep my composure. “I’m not really sure. I guess I want to do more with my life. It feels . . .” I struggled to find the right word. “Empty.” “What about your job?” 

“I’ll resign or . . . I’ll ask for a leave of absence.” 

Tom scowled. “Those are developing countries you’re talking about. What if something happened to you on the drive? What if you died down there?” 

His resistance, interestingly enough, gave me courage. “I can’t stop living because I’m afraid of dying.” Even as I spoke, I began to feel stronger and more alive. “I’m past fifty now. I’ve got to do this while I still can.” 

Tom leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh. Then he stood up and walked toward me. So, without hesitation, I got up, and he took me in his arms. With no word spoken, he held me tightly, each of us deep in our thoughts, masking our fears and confusion. At that instant, I knew, one way or another, that nothing would ever be the same again. 

 I had chosen Africa for my life-changing midlife journey because Tom and I had been born and raised there. As a young couple, we had lived in the wilderness with our firstborn son, Derek, who played under a variety of wild mopane, acacia, and fever trees while the monkeys chattered and frolicked above. I loved the wilderness, the smell of the earth after the thunderstorms that rolled across the bushveld in the afternoons, the sounds of the branches snapping as buck walked past, the call of the hyenas and bush babies in the evening, the raucous call of the hadeda ibis in the morning. When the military called up Tom and told him he had to report for duty, and I was pregnant with our second son, David, we made our big decision. We were no longer willing to support the brutal system of apartheid with our presence, so we had to leave South Africa. Convinced of the rightness of our plans, we 4 All You’ll See is Sky packed up and moved to Canada. In some powerful sense, my midlife decision to return home was completing a natural cycle. 

Lengthy discussion filled the days following my announcement of my decision to drive the length of Africa, as Tom and I shredded and analyzed our lives. He struggled to understand my need to give up everything we had, everything we had worked for, and my choice to walk out of our lives into an unknown future. All of our assumptions were challenged—about our marriage, our relationship, our retirement, and our future together, everything about us. We argued, and I cried, the questions endless and the answers elusive. 

Days later, as Tom sipped his morning coffee, he asked, “If I join you, what the hell will we do with the house?” 

“I don’t care about the house.” I looked out the window to the view of the mountains in the distance. “You can sell it. I want out of our lifestyle.” 

“What about Derek and David? How will they feel?” 

I felt that familiar mother’s guilt well up in me. What would they say? They lived their own lives now. Indeed, they no longer needed me. I glanced up at their photographs on the mantel. Smiling faces on the ski hill. Would they even miss me? 

“They don’t need me anymore. They’ll be fine.” I hesitated. “I think they’d want me to do something for myself now.” 

“Just how do you suppose you’re going to pay for this? The cost would use up all our retirement savings.” 

“I’ll eat peanut butter sandwiches for the rest of my life if I have to, but I’m going. I’m leaving.” I had no firm idea where all my frustration and restlessness was coming from, but the emotions lit a spark of energy in me, an energy to chase what I wanted. 

We wrapped our nights together for two weeks in words of fury, rage, distress, and heartbreak. All the constant arguing pulled me in two directions—my heart screaming to leave, and yet my head telling me not to make a decision I would later regret.

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Janet A Wilson was born and raised in South Africa. She has a fierce love for the continent’s wilderness, wildlife, and the rich diversity of cultures and people. She lived in the wilderness, as her husband was an exploration geologist. Surrounded by wildlife, no running water, no electricity, and a toddler, Janet loved their lifestyle. But unwilling to support apartheid, they immigrated to Canada with their sons in 1979. But she always retained her desire to return to Africa and explore the continent. Janet has experienced three extensive overland travels across Africa with her husband. The couple have also driven from Alaska to Argentina. She lives in Calgary, Canada. She graduated with a degree in sociology and nursing and obtained her Master’s in Health Administration.

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Category: On Writing