As many know, life can be very hectic all by itself. But trying to get life together before vacation can make the statement “tying up loose ends” seem virtually impossible.
We are leaving to go on a two-week vacation and, to be honest, I have so much going on that I still don’t know up from down. We’ve had so much happening that I failed to see all the jobs that needed to be done before we leave. CPR training, CEU classes, laundry, changing bed sheets, writing a letter to decline a job, getting a sitter for the cat, cleaning the cat box and getting all of his things out so she doesn’t have to look for anything… the list goes on.
Doctor’s appointments, verifying our trip, checking in for the flight, making sure we have enough medication for the trip, weighing the luggage, and deciding which suitcases we even want to take. Last-minute phone calls to remind the parental units on both sides that we’re leaving. We’re traveling in the middle of the day with a three-and-a-half-hour layover around dinner time, so snacks need to be packed, books chosen, earbuds charged, and charging cords packed so the second pair can stay ready to go. Movies, books, and games downloaded for whatever device we decide to use while flying.
Sleeping the night before is almost non-existent. Excitement, being overtired, running the packing list over and over in my head, praying I didn’t forget anything, and making sure I packed enough socks and underwear. After so many trips, you’d think I would know exactly what I need and never forget anything. But somehow, every single trip, there’s at least one thing left behind.
I create lists, and then the lists get lost in the packing room or accidentally washed because I shoved them into the pants I was wearing. Yes, I have a spare room dedicated to packing, but it also doubles as a guest room, which means the closet and dresser are shared space between organized intentions and complete chaos.
Every trip seems to begin the same way — a little chaos, a little exhaustion, and a lot of wondering how we managed to schedule so much life right before leaving it behind for a while. I tell myself every time that next trip will be different, more organized, less rushed. It never is.
But somewhere between the packing room disaster and the airport gate, everything shifts. The noise quiets, the lists stop mattering, and the countdown no longer has numbers to count. I look over at the man sitting next to me — my soulmate, my best friend, the love of my life — and I remember why I love to travel in the first place. Yes, it’s the new places, the new experiences, and the stories we bring home with us. But more than anything, it’s the time together.
Maybe that’s what travel really is for us. Not just seeing the world, but making sure we never stop choosing each other in it. And somewhere between takeoff and landing, I’m reminded that no matter where we go, or what we forgot to pack, I’m going to have a good time — because he’s right there beside me.
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