Toured Home
A global sojourn.
And so it begins…
It’s really happening. I spent $1388 on vaccinations and health-related items today during my appointment with Nurse Donna at Passport Health. After 4 shots, my left arm is undoubtedly a little sore. It’s a bit surreal, this whole world travel thing. I find myself doing things to make it really real. Such as, my announcement on Facebook. I wasn’t looking for attention, or pats on the back, I was putting it out to the world so that the idea of it wasn’t just in my head. By telling the world, albeit MY world, I made it bigger than me. I’m now accountable to my hundreds of “friends”. I made a statement and I have to follow through. Or….not. I guess I could bag it. I would come up with an acceptable reason (to me) why I couldn’t/shouldn’t go, and that would be that. People would move on. But what would I do? Where would that leave me? Homeless, for one. I’ve already told my landlord I’m leaving and promised my home to a friend of a friend. I would surely be left Jobless and slightly Poorer too. I’ve shut down my interior design business, burnt out from 20 years and a panoply of indecisive clients. My bank account is definitely feeling the punch from the vaccines and that’s only the first of many hits to be had. Maggie is gone, my two delicious kids are grown and on their own. I am completely untethered. Quite honestly, I am admittedly more afraid of NOT going on this world tour and watching another year of my life drift by on autopilot, unchanged. I NEED change. I want it, and I’m doing everything I can to make it happen. Planning this trip has become a full time job that I absolutely LOVE!! I am finally fueled with excitement and exploration, the possibilities and opportunities that await me, the unknown!! THIS is what life is about!! Carpe Diem!! The research, the stories, the people who have written them, the necessity of talking with people from all over, friends, strangers, strangers who have now become friends…it’s eye opening and spirit-lifting and smile-evoking….and so much more. I hate cliches, but every one I hear applies!! I find lyrics in every song that make a new kind of sense! So I’ve deduced I would be crazy NOT to take this journey! Can you hear how my voice has risen a dozen octaves as I’m writing this??? I’m ALIVE!!!!
And so it begins….
Sunrise
This is the view from my bed. It’s what I am leaving behind and what propels me forward. I awake most mornings to the sun rising over the Hudson River. It’s stunning and quiet and meaningful each and every day. And it tells me there is more to come.
Eyes wide open….
Prologue
Maggie died on a hot, thick-as-pea-soup stiflingly muggy day in July. She made it to the front lawn, as focused as a marathon runner on the finish line, and then collapsed, gasping for air, searching me with her eyes, willing me to provide that which she needed, desperately. But I couldn’t. I panicked. I urged her to get up and move on toward the house. There was A/C in the house, Cold, tiled floors that she could lay on to cool her down. Wet towels I would cover her with hoping to lower the heat of her body and return her breathing to normal. Breathing – no, gasping. That awful sound of a swollen larynx straining to force all molecules of air inward. Her tongue was blue and dry. I shrieked, “FUCK!!” I held it together. For her. I put ice cubes on her tongue that rolled off with no acknowledgement from her of their existence. She gasped, with the most heart wrenching sound I will ever know. No air was getting through, and she was in a full on panic. Laurie directed us to call 911 and get a policeman over to help carry her out to the car so we could get her to a hospital. I rotely dialed the phone and followed her lead. I had always believed I was the level-headed one in emergencies, until this one. I was a mess. The uniformed cop came in my front door, and with Laurie’s direction, he and Michael carried Maggie out and down the steep 13 steps to Laurie’s car. In slow motion, I panned the faces of all of my neighbors, watching in horror; hands over mouths, catching my eye to tell me their hearts were with us all. Climbing into the back seat next to her, I begged for her to hang on. Just fucking hang on.
Eighteen hours later, Michael and I held her in our arms, tears flowing, snot running as we said goodbye and felt life leave the warmest, most loving, soulful being I had ever known. That kind of silence was deafening. Within five minutes, I got up and left the room.
Toured Home 
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