Chapter Twenty-Two Vision in the Mountains
“We deserve to imagine more.”
It was Friday morning when Sunni packed the bags.
No announcement. No discussion.
She just walked into the living room with a stack of overnight duffels and said, “Get dressed. Layers. We hittin’ the road.”
Prince blinked from behind his phone. “Where we going?”
“Somewhere with trees and no cell towers,” Sunni smiled. “Don’t ask questions—just pack your drawers.”
By noon, they were on the road—the kids in the back seat squabbling over snacks, Prince DJ’ing from the aux, Kane with her hoodie pulled over her eyes pretending she wasn’t excited.
It had been a long time since they’d laughed in the car.
The mountains crept up on them slowly—tall, silent, and steady. Gatlinburg greeted them with cool air, bright cabins, and a quiet Sunni hadn’t felt in years.
They checked into a cozy Airbnb nestled between the trees—fireplace, bunk beds, and a back porch that looked like a postcard.
After they dropped their bags, Sunni called everyone to the dining room table.
On it?
Scissors. Glue sticks. Markers. A stack of old magazines. And big foam poster boards, one for each of them.
Bunny clapped. “Are we doin’ arts and crafts?!”
“No,” Sunni said, grinning. “We’re doing vision boards.”
Kane raised an eyebrow. “Like, for real?”
“For real. I saw it online—a vision board weekend retreat. I couldn’t afford that bougie mess,” Sunni laughed, “but I can do it with y’all right here.”
She looked around at her kids.
“I want us to start dreaming again. Not just reacting to life—but deciding what we want the next six months to look like. What we want to feel. Who we want to be.”
She handed everyone a board.
“Pictures. Words. Quotes. Whatever speaks to you.”
That night, they cut. They glued. They laughed.
Kane made hers about travel and music. Prince added a weight bench and a quote about becoming a man.
Bunny put puppies, glitter, and a picture of Oprah.
Dexter found an old Xbox ad and a drawing of a big house.
Even Natty scribbled “Love” in purple crayon and glued a rainbow over it.
Sunni’s board?
It had peace. Joy. A beach. A heart that wasn’t cracked.
And a line she found in a magazine ad:
“Healing isn’t a destination—it’s the way you walk.”
Later, they sat around the fireplace sipping hot chocolate and roasting marshmallows on butter knives.
“Y’all did good,” Sunni said softly. “This weekend ain’t just about getting away. It’s about letting go.”
Prince nodded. “We needed this.”
Kane looked over. “You did too, Mama.”
Sunni smiled. And for the first time in a long time… it wasn’t tired.