A year from now, if all goes as planned, we will be home from Pennsylvania. YaYu will have graduated, we’ll have done a bit of sightseeing (Gettysburg and Valley Forge: as history nuts we like visiting battlefields), and we’ll be turning our focus to our fall trip to Japan.
I’m not sure though how I’m going to get through this next year. I miss my kids and my grandkids. We’ve got goals we’re working on, we’re saving like mad, there’s loads of research and planning to do, but we’re still not going anywhere. It’s hard, for me anyway.
This year has been going by fairly quickly – it’s June already! – and we have plenty to do here to keep us busy, but I’ve still got an overwhelming urge to go somewhere. Anywhere. The temptation to do something, go somewhere, swirls around me constantly, especially as the world reopens.
I’ve thought about us making a short visit to another island, but then I think about how it would cut into our savings for 2022 and the Big Adventure II, and I tell myself to hang in there. It’s the same with any other travel or getaway idea that pops into my head. I remind myself we’ve had to wait a year or more before for other journeys and we can do it again. The girls will be here for Christmas. I look at our savings balances and think about how much bigger they’ll be at the end of the year if we just keep doing what we’re doing now, and don’t give in to waiting fatigue. Dreaming, I remind myself, is free.
Look at the big picture. Eyes on the prize. The reward will be more the worth it. Better to be safe now than sorry later. These are my mantras right now, but I am still feeling restless and itching to go somewhere.