Now that I'm Back...

June 26, 2016 - Now that I'm Back...

Now that I’m back, I’ve had a chance to catch up with my son, Matt.  Although he’s working full-time at Mitre Corporation now, he’s still finding time to spend working on his fused glass at his studio in the Workhouse Arts Center. 

I’ve been quite busy since I returned from the trip to Budapest and Vienna.  One thing that’s occupying my time is more travel planning.  In fact, within 24 hours of being home, completely exhausted, I was at the computer, searching out possibilities for more trips.  A few days later, still exhausted, I had notes scribbled about half a dozen trips I’d like to take over the next 12 months.  I had so much information to keep track of that I made up a spreadsheet for 2016-17, called The Year of Travel.  Each month shows another another far-flung journey – Portugal, Egypt, the west coast, India, Spain, Santa Fe, and more. 

But that’s not all.  It seems that each day I hear about someone’s recent trip, and I’d make another entry on the spreadsheet – Croatia! Vietnam! Iceland!  However, I know full well that I haven’t even fully recovered from my recent trip although I’ve been home over a week.  Actually, I’m a little troubled to see that my energy level hasn’t returned to what I’d consider normal, i.e. non-stop.  Yesterday, when I decided to take it easy by sitting outside on the bench to read, I started nodded off and was forced to go inside to take a real afternoon nap.  Is this a sign of grave illness?  I’d better make an appointment with my doctor. 

And then, early this morning, I had a sudden insight.  I’d been wondering why I feel compulsive, needing to do something productive at every single minute.  Of course, now that the caregiving responsibilities have been lifted, I finally have the time and freedom to do what I want to do.  But that doesn’t explain the anxiety I feel.  I think it’s a reaction to the loss of Elliott.  His death underscores my own mortality.  I hadn’t realized just how it had been affecting me subconsciously.  My life could be over at any time.  Or if not death, then disability, whether physical or cognitive, could prevent me from doing the things I want to do.  So I have to make up for lost time, and I have to do it fast, not knowing how much time remains.

Now that I have a better sense of what’s going on, I’ll continue to consider travel, but I’ll consciously scale back my plans to a reasonable level.  I don’t have to cram five years worth of travel into a twelve- month period.  And perhaps my next trip should be a yoga retreat.