Over the River & Thru the Woods...

 To Grandmother's house we go!

At least, that's how the song goes. In our case, it's more like over the Ozark hills and through the cornfields. And we're not going to Grandmother's house. Tomorrow, we're taking her halfway to her temporary new digs with my sister and brother-in-law in South Dakota. We'll meet them in Nebraska at B-I-L's brother's house to make the exchange.

2024 was a very tough year for our family. We lost my dad to a glioblastoma in January and the emptiness of missing him is still knife-sharp. It's been especially hard for mom, who spent 70 years of her life  alongside him. At 87, she stays active in church, going to lunch with her friends and still lives in her own home, four blocks from our house. But I didn't feel comfortable leaving her in town for 4 1/2 months without us here.

Never one to travel light...

Enter my sister Linda. She's been wanting Mom to come for a visit since we lost Dad, so this will work out splendidly. Mom will celebrate Christmas in the Black Hills with Linda's family, including nephew Josh who joined us for the Alaskan cruise in 2021 and his sister Alexis and her husband and kids who'll be flying in from Dubai! Mom is taking a notebook of music for her to play on the piano while my brother-in-law plays his bass guitar. It promises to be an exciting time with lots of fun and family, laughter and good food. 

And maybe, just maybe, this first Christmas without Dad will be a little less painful.   

Linda's already set up a doctor, a beautician and a nail salon for Mom. She will be welcome and well-cared for while we travel the world, which is a big relief to me. 

One of the few downsides of extended travel is fretting about the ones we've left behind. Yes, our kids are adults and able to fend for themselves, manage our tenants and properties, take care of our little dogs and each other, but "what if's" still sneak into my imagination uninvited.

Apparently, I'm arrogant enough to think I can keep bad things from happening or at least mitigate them when they do, just by being there.  

The Greeks have a word for it: hubris. Exaggerated self-pride and importance. 

When I embark the Viking Sky, I hope to fling hubris over board. I don't have to handle every little thing. My loved ones are safe in God's hands, much safer than they are with me.

And the DH and I are safe in His hands too as we roam this unnecessarily beautiful planet. No matter what happens. 

(Yes, Dad, I still remember you warning me about rogue waves!)