I started this year with my father's brain surgery, quickly followed up with a car accident and my grandmother's death. In the haze of processing one stressful event after another, a box arrived on my doorstep, the contents of which allowed for happy tears instead of sad ones. You see, my friends, knowing the tough time I was having, sent me a care package. They all got together and organized a quick delivery of chocolates and cozy socks and a journal. A travel journal actually, because that is how much they get me.
Who knows why, but at the time, I put the journal away. I thought, "I'll use this for actual travels again some day," not to document our trip to Iowa for my grandmother's funeral. The thing is, I never could have imagined where else the year would take us, and that the pretty, blank travel log burning a hole on my desk shelf would serve a real purpose.
On Monday we left Denver again, not permanently, but still to do a very big thing. It's hard to say so in the face of my own privilege; when even though it's been a challenging year for our family, in the grand scheme of things, we've been able to sort it out. In my heart, I've been toiling with emotions that feel valid and very real, while trying to make them fit into the broader landscape of what's going on in our country and world.
So here's the honest truth, the baseline from which we're operating: We can't get a mortgage until Wander Unlimited turns two next spring, but we let our lease in Platt Park go anyway. We've got this thing going for us right now, a thing I've been calling "flexible stability", in which we've found a way to survive and be comfortable; but in terms of roots and the "American Dream", we're still quite fluid. That in itself is part of the difficulty of this life phase. We can't really dig in, and the longer the waiting lasts, the tougher it is to live in a perpetual transition.
Our solution was to make the most of it. To focus more on the "flexible" and see where it takes us. I took the travel journal from my desk and we booked some tickets to Spain. We're going to spend the fall touring around the Mediterranean, living and working and having an adventure. I don't know how long we'll be here or how it's all going to look; but if these last few years have taught me anything, it's that you can't ever know what might come up, whether you're in your own backyard or the south of France. When it's a matter of what to do next, the best option is just to say "yes".