This is not what I expected. None of it. I didn't leave or arrive as I thought I would.It has all been more complicated than I imagined. The flights, the documenting, the hiking, the writing...the soul-lifting exhaustion...I remain surprised by it all.
But still I am smiling, from the inside. Joyful. Excited. I can't imagine feeling any more fulfilled.
My plans seemed logical...
*Pack 3 bags:
Stuff the first with sunblock, sundresses, flipflops, beauty equipment of every manner, a stack of American $1 bills and a few trashy magazines. Be prepared for decadence.
The second is a hikers pack. There is nothing glamorous about it, inside or out. Preparation is key...A mummy-style sleeping bag, plastic sheet and pillow case; immodium, toilet paper, gravol, pepto bismol, cypro, and. Citricidal; boots, work socks, jeans, hats and long sleeve shirts...Modesty, health, respect and safety are my guides.
The third bag is reserved for giving. It is filled with handmade dolls and bears, crayons, hair clips, pens, pencils and crayons. I carry this for others; for those who live in the spirit of generosity but whose journey though life follows a different path.
*Board an assortment of aircraft, carefully timed to intertwine with the plans of others...
It was some ridiculously cold temperature on February 1 when Carol and I slipped (quite literally) into a taxi at 3:30am. It was Nearly 30C and stifflingly humid when we arrived at the 5* Grand Palladium resort in Montego Bay, Jamaica 12 hours later.
After a week that featured family, food, a glorious wedding and more than a few moments of delicious hedonism we arrived home to swirling snow and painful predictions of more to come. I was still basking in the glow of my first all-inclusive...changing from sandals and tee to boots and sweater...when I received a text from Liz. "All United flights are canceled. Saturday departure rescheduled to Monday, February 11.
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