And what do you do on the day before you go on a trip? Well, obviously, you pack. And so today, I imposed myself on the young family, with the goal of teaching Snowdrop how to pack for travel.
That's presumptuous of me, don't you think? I mean, the girl has a mom and a dad and both can handle perfectly well the packing of a little girl's suitcase. Nonetheless, I volunteered to take the lead here and they gratefully accepted. There will have to be negotiations and deals made. Gogs may as well be the one making them. Especially since -- and this is the crucial point -- gogs will be the one navigating the girl and her suitcase along. That's right, Snowdrop and I are heading out for a spring break of adventure together. Just the two of us.
Hold your questions! I know what they are! First and foremost -- what about the parents? And then, on the heels of that -- what about the two brothers??
The fact is, Snowdrop has been clamoring to go on a trip with me for a long time ("I'm adventurous, just like you!") and we all decided that she was old enough to do it now: she is plenty independent and I'm not (yet!) too old to head out with a seven year old. So the timing is good. And yes, don't forget the pandemic. Covid had ruined a huge family trip for all of us that was to take place two years ago. Covid could still ruin trips for us in future years. This appears to be a good moment to travel safely. She's vaccinated and has had some form of the variant that's currently at play, I'm super vaccinated and not likely to get sick. So we're good!
And her brothers?? They will have to wait. Until they're old enough to have me point to the door to the bathroom and be told -- it's over there, tell me when you're done. And old enough to walk in the rain, or in the dark, or both without a second thought. Soon, but not yet.
All that planning and itinerary drawing? I worked on it with Snowdrop in mind. I may throw it all out the window once we get to our port of call, but I want to be prepared and not waste time imagining what's next. Because I know that time will be precious. (My one worry is how ever will I manage to blog and sleep and be present for her all day long! My motto for this trip? We will manage! No matter what, we will manage!)
It's a cold day -- the kind you feel does not belong in March, and yet it's frequently a part of this month. There's a bit of snow on the ground and the temps stay meanly just below freezing.
Ed and I eat a quick breakfast (he is studying my umbrella's mechanism; since he has never had a need for an umbrella -- when it rains, he gets wet, or stays home -- he hasn't kept up with the technology, so he's curious now)...
... and then I am off: to the bakery for some treats for the young family. To a clothes shop to see if we all can talk Snowdrop into loving a dress, just one dress, any dress for the trip. (And Sparrow comes too, and it is his first time trying on stuff in a store dressing room, and the poor guy is overwhelmed, not really understanding that just because you put something on in that tight little room, it's not yours to take home.)
And then I tackle the packing. Snowdrop's suitcase is very small, but we fit in every essential little cardigan and pair of leggings (you know -- the same stuff that she wears over and over and over and over again, just like so many kids her age who get stuck on favorites and cling to them as if anything else would cause excruciating pain), and yes -- one dress. We are not leaving until tomorrow afternoon, but I take the little suitcase back to the farmhouse with me so the little girl wont be tempted to mess with the carefully grouped contents.
At home, I've accumulated a pile of stuff that I consider the bane of travel packing. It's never the clothes that cause me distress. It's stuff like umbrellas (two this time), and scissors, and medications for every possible issue that may flare up (because when you are almost 69, flareups happen), and the books for her and chords for all my devices for me, and masks -- have to have those still, surgical smalls for her, with ear loops knotted just so, to fit her better, and bandaids, and a thermometer, and kids Motrin, and on and on. Of course, you can get stuff once you are there, but you do not want to waste time on that kind of nonsense. So you make lists and the pile grows and you sigh, knowing darn well that one little carry on for a nine day trip is just not going to cut it for you this time around. So there will be three bags: two tiny suitcases, and a bag full of items that may or may not prove to be essential. Meaning we will have to send some bags through and cross our fingers that they'll make the connections along with us!
I wont totally attack my own packing until tomorrow. For the rest of this day, I sit back and review in my head what's ahead. Travel with my grandkids is something special and magical but it's not necessarily easy. (And maybe therein lies the lesson: maybe all special and magical things are not easy to work through.) I want to do as many of these trips, with or without parents, as I can. I believe in travel. It's where you develop patience and resilience, and it's where you can cultivate a good attitude when things begin to unravel and the rain comes down, and the luggage gets lost, or when you get stranded with your daughter first in one city then the next because of severe snowstorms, or -- the worst one yet for me -- when the pilot tells you halfway over the Atlantic that he has to turn back because a passenger is not well and the nearest airport is on the continent you just left behind.
Travel is beautiful when things go well, but it's most memorable when there are some hiccups. They are what trigger stories, amplified to the max in the retelling. They create memories. Remember the time I took you and your brother to the museum and he just could not take another minute in the stroller? So that I had to hold this upset one year old and push this cheerful four year old and we had to navigate stairs and it was altogether crazy?
Oh, adventures! How much they shape our perspective on life!
Here's hoping we all have some good ones this spring break. With happy, happy endings.
