June 10, 2009, I typed this and meant to post it. It was the night before our scheduled flight to Leon’s family reunion in England. Fifteen days we had allowed ourselves to leave work behind. Our son and daughter-in-law were to travel with us. The opportunity to spend time, the four of us, together like that is an incredible opportunity with their busy lives, but I wrote:
Europe beckons to all but me. It is only in recent days I finally agreed to go, even as I was not sure, nor were they, I would go.
A few know I do not like to fly in the best of times. A few know that tiny creatures lurk in hotel rooms, ready to grab your skin as their territory and not give up until you poison them – and you – and I don’t even like medicine… especially as creative as pharmaceutical companies have become with side effects being ‘occasional’ and doctors say — well it rarely happens — BUT it happens to someone.
Most of us know they are now quarantining passengers in some countries because they sat near someone on a plane with swine flu symptoms. A few know I have held my tongue from speaking things that others don’t want to hear, as much to keep myself from wasting the energy as to keep myself from expending energy for nothing. Some know this trip has cost us our RV down payment.
And, some know I have not been reserved around some with my dislike of going no matter how I sometimes momentarily got into their excitement. I’ve quite frankly griped a bit too much about it – as I wrestled to make a decision.
Most would think an understanding husband, one who knows those reasons and the unsaid ones, would make it easier for me. It does/did not. I do not want to go. Period. But – I know how much he wants me to go – if I can bring myself to. I know how much he is willing to let me stay home – with no anger, only disappointment – even though he so very much wants to have long walks on the beach, leisurely dinners, and show me the places he has not seen since he was 15; his culture.
I know whatever is thrown his way over there alone, he will deal with, good or bad. I know that he will feel my support wherever he is, for 35 years we have given and received support to and from each other. And I know that he loves to have fun and will have fun with or without me. And what makes it more difficult is I would be the first one to tell a person to “NOT” go if they truly don’t want to. I would say that, in part, because so many people still let people bully them into doing something. Had he been that type of person and bullied me or said the things some others have said, I would have said not so pretty words and jumped on my computer and said, “See ya! Have fun. I plan on it. Here.” But he is not like that. So I have struggled with the decision. I really don’t want to fly, sleep in someone else’s bed, play mind games with relatives or strangers,
And I did not finish the post, caught up in packing (something I rarely do), moving more things to new rental condo, and last minute paperwork. In future posts, I will share some of their pics, mishaps, and experiences, but will not share family stories (well, Leon’s maybe, but then he is fair game, he knows that!).
Wait, wait. I have to slip you one pic of the Grass Market area in Edinburgh, Scotland. Now this would beckon even me!
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