The last day in January and big adventure awaits us tomorrow.
We fly, we pack, then drive home.
Home. Your home and mine, in someway, I hope.
I am itching to get this part over. And so are you. You are frightened and so am I. I am treading as carefully as I can, although I want to scream and shake you and yell at you and kiss you all at the same time.
Is that normal?
Is that just my intense desire to want things to work out?
I don’t know, I am too tired to analyze it. And excited and worried.
I pray for our safety. Not just of our bodies but our hearts too. There is no turning back from this. There is no turning back.
The wheel, in motion and slowly moving, has turned us here. We must face it. We must face whatever this will be. I hope with patience and kindness and fun.
I hope, I hope.
This isn’t what I had in mind when I thought about living an exciting life. But perhaps, in weeks, months, years from now–we will be able to see it all as it unfolded in hindsight and say: “Ah! Those were the days!”
