There is no moment of delight in any pilgrimage like the beginning of it.
- Charles Dudley Warner
- Charles Dudley Warner
We are finished with school (hallelujah!) and today is the day we’re getting ready for our trip to Nevada. I love getting ready for trips. It appeals to the part of my personality that loves to organize. I’m pretty lousy at staying organized but that’s OK when you’re preparing for a trip. You don’t need staying power, just initial order.
I have boxes of clothes my kids have outgrown that I’m giving to my sisters. I have books to return to my mom. I have a necklace I need to have my dad repair. All assembled neatly at the foot of my bed. I have a tidy box of books and magazines, audio books and action figures and drawing supplies for the trip. I have snacks at the ready, DVDs selected, the ipod all set to load. I love it!
And then there are the lists. I relish lists. I have lists for today’s tasks, a packing list, a list of clothes I’ve already packed this week, while I’ve been doing laundry.
I understand that this organizing obsession is peculiar but it is balanced by the loose paper explosion surrounding me as I type in our cluttered school room. I’m not so good at keeping control of everything. I can do a bang up job getting ready for a trip though.
We’re all excited about the trip. I couldn’t say if we’re more thrilled by the prospect of seeing our family or seeing the sun. I can’t remember which we saw last but I know it’s been a long time either way.
As for me, I’m looking forward to hours and hours in the van, with my bare feet propped up on the dashboard, talking to Adam. I’m looking forward to watching my kids play with their cousins. I’m looking forward to sitting on the counter in my mom’s kitchen with my bare feet propped up on the side of the refrigerator (I see a theme here?), talking to my mom.
I’m looking forward to taking pictures of my kids going on a buggy ride with their grandpa. I’m looking forward to celebrating Father’s Day with my dad, which I don’t think I’ve done for 13 years. I’m looking forward to seeing all of my tall siblings and hugging them and laughing with (and at) them. I’m looking forward to seeing their spouses and children and painting flowers on the wall of my nieces’ bedroom.
There is nothing reassuring like the ritual of going home, reconnecting, sleeping in the shadow of the same mountains that kept you safe through your childhood and waking up to sunshine, real live sunshine, streaming through the windows.
Now I’ve got to go pack. Finish ticking lovely items off the list!
1 comment:
hey, looks like we share the same feet on the dashboard and sitting on kitchen counters as favorites! Only dad tells me to take my bum off where he cooks his food. However, mom didn't even flinch when I put my dirty bare feet on her nice clean dashboard on the way to and from Winthrop. I figured I'd give it a shot and see if she told me to get them off her new van, but she didn't! woot woot. It was the sign that her "New Car Snob" ways were sliding :D
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