“Share our similarities, celebrate our differences.” ~ M. Scott Peck.

As will be apparent as this morning’s musing unfolds, I am currently in a different time zone. So although it will be late for those in the Eastern Standard time zone (five hours behind the Universal Coordinated Time rather than the old Greenwich Mean Time) it is not yet 4:00 am where I am.

I blame my daughter-in-law. She knows this, so I am not ‘dissing’ her behind her back.  A few years ago, back when we were in the heart of Pandemic Lockdown, she had the nerve to plan a family trip to Gatlinburg, Tennessee, to celebrate her husband (my eldest son) turning 40.  This was either very brave or very foolish, since she had to commit to the downpayment and all of our timed contributions at a time when we did not know what January 2021 would bring.

Thankfully, by the time we gathered in a rustic cabin (nothing like the log cabins of old, of course) in the mountains, snow covered and bare treed, with cardinals and American robins darting from branch to branch, we were all vaccinated.  The time together was wonderful, though we were all a little fearful that perhaps we had been too foolhardy.  We went out and about in Gatlinburg, seeing the sights, faithfully wearing our masks.  Others were not as obedient to the requirements of the times.  We bravely climbed onto the chair lift that took us up to the lodge (restaurants, gift shops) from which we could survey 360 degrees of the mountainous surroundings.  Even braver, we crossed the ‘see-through’ bridge which spanned a gorge, and some of us even looked down! Some were less scared than others, but what made us feel better was hearing that strangers around us were experiencing the same emotions! The kids were the best!

One of our trips was to Ripley’s Believe it or not Haunted House.  My granddaughter (not quite nine at the time) decided to be at the front of our group.  So you know she was the one the most shell-shocked when we finally emerged, after laughing/screaming/jumping/gripping hands.  It took ice cream (on that cold day) to persuade her to stop crying! Poor traumatized child.  Later that day, while we sat in front of a blazing fire safely back in the cabin, some friends stopped by and she elected to go back into town with them.  And where did she insist that they visit? Yes, another trip to the Haunted house! And this time she laughed at the cries of other kids who went with her!

So here we are, just over two years later.  Memories of COVID linger, and though we are still hearing about new variants and bad outcomes, it is not the threat it was.  What my daughter-in-law started was a new tradition, and as my second son started the year, he began to think about possible venues for his 40^th.  My daughter (the eldest, who had celebrated her 40^th with a large restaurant outing – less travel and expense involved) had recently been on a few ski trips to Colorado.  This, she declared was the most amazing experience, and my son started looking into the options.

My father used to say: ‘It is better to travel hopefully, than to arrive’.  In other words, as much of the joy in life can lie in anticipation as in the actual event.  Many years ago, we decided to surprise my parents when they celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary.  They had by that time retired to the idyllic village in North Wales, one which was quite as beautiful as their home for the previous 23 years, in the heart of Jamaica.  Both boasted spectacular views of mountains.  The village in Wales contrasted in being nestled along the coastline, overlooking an estuary (where two rivers met the sea).  Across the wide expanse of water could be seen Harlech Castle, a 13^th century castle built by the English King to defend against the Welsh princes (yes, way before Columbus set his sights on the Indies, the English were attempting to colonize Wales).  On a clear day, the views from Borth-y-gest are breathtaking, and have been photographed time after time.

The surprise for my parents was to be the attendance of their two children who lived in the States.  They were aware of most of the guests who would be attending, mostly family.  A couple of people who were associated with their time in Jamaica also attended.  Not an easy feat driving from London in the south of England to a town on the North coast of Wales.  Miles of motorway in the UK cannot be traveled with the speed we associate in the US, so their journeys on the day began very early.

My siblings kept our pending arrival a secret until a day or so before the event.  When finally, after coded messages (‘the eagle has landed’), we arrived at my sister’s house, and hugs and delighted smiles ensued.  Afterwards I wondered if my mother would actually have preferred to know in advance.  To be able to anticipate our visit, plan excursions and outings, pick out points of interest to visit.  I never asked.

Part of the pleasures of 21^st century travel arrangements, is the opportunity to stay, not in anonymous hotels, having to stay in separate rooms, but rather to be able to stay in a home, the family all in one place.  It is hard to think that these houses could be built for anything else, seven bedrooms, multiple levels, able to sleep 22. Who can afford such luxuries?  But for those of us visiting for a short stay, the expenses divvied up among many parties, over many months, it becomes a possibility to live like the fabulously wealthy for a long weekend.

For me, the mountains are a big part of the treat.  Standing at the airport yesterday, while we coordinated the logistics of getting thirteen people up the mountain, I stared at the distant, snow-clad ranges and breathed.  Travel for me makes me a little anxious. I have no fear of flying.  My irrational fears are related to misplacing essential items, boarding passes (I threw mine away!) (no I didn’t), phone (could I have left it at the gate….no here it is).  My Zen-like calm is replaced by feverish searching through my bag, convinced I have done something foolish, only to be reminded that as usual I have done the right thing while forgetting that I did.

Since we drove up into the mountains in the twilight and the gloaming (I love that word!), we watched the ranges come closer and closer, and took daring switchback rides around hairpin bends (shake-hands corner) in the gathering darkness, arriving at the snow-covered cabin in the dark.  Today we will see what we could not see last night:  the mountains up close and organic.

This Friday morning I hope you are able to maintain your calm despite life’s little bumps.  I hope that you have some event, some moment to plan for and await eagerly.  And when it arrives, I hope the joys of coming together, of being with family, creates memories (and photos!) to remind you of that joy.

Have a wonderful weekend, Family!

One Love!

Namaste.