“We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.”
~T.S. Eliot’s “Four Quarters”
So as not to lose momentum on what I’ve decided to be a priority this year, I’m squeezing a quick post into a busy day of yoga, packing, dog drop-off, etc, before I’m off to the airport at 5. I’m headed east; my travel companions west. We will converge in Singapore Monday morning.
I had a busy, fun week sewing. I made my first outfit for boys, thanks to my friend, Wendy, who was looking for a gift. Kimimila’s signature butterfly, included with each girls’ outfit, did a reverse metamorphosis, turning into a caterpillar for boys!
Back to traveling. I’ve been doing it my entire life. When I was a kid, my parents would pile my brother, sister and me into the back of our station wagon and take off for the west. I remember breakfast at roadside picnic tables, lemonade from the big plastic thermos that rode in front with Mom, playing the road sign alphabet game, the list of state license plates and sitting in (way unsafe) way back. Our sibling squabbles seemed to be in perfect synchronicity with the sun, lessening in intensity with the lengthening of the shadows. We needed a united front in order to cash in on the granddaddy of all 60s car-vacationing kids’ payoffs, the motel pool. We would hold our collective breath as we drove into the town we suspected would contain our overnight digs. Tension would grow with each “No Vacancy” sign. Hearts would race as we would near a motel with “VACANCY” illuminated, but not displaying the hoped and prayed for “POOL”. Spirits would soar should we find both. Our lives were complete. At least until the next day.
That’s how it all began. I was fortunate to have found a spouse whose family did the same. Peter and I had many adventures together; as did we with our children, and our families. I’m headed to Myanmar with Peter’s parents, brother, Ken and his wife, Kris. Peter’s mom is almost 89. She’s just a month out of the hospital after a cardiac incident. Peter’s dad is nursing a broken arm. I so admire their desire to persevere. I hope I’m doing the same when I’m their age. We’ll be in Singapore for a few days, then flying to Yangon. There we’ll embark on an eight day river cruise. If I’m able, I’ll post along the way. If not, you’ll hear from me when I return.
But if I don’t get packing, I won’t be going anywhere….