Just for fun, Eric and I have been looking at photos from our last year’s travels and playing, “What was your favorite (campground, hike, paddle, bird sighting, café, etc.…)?”
On these cold, long winter days, I look at photos of us kayaking the wild rivers in Florida, hiking through meadows of wildflowers in the North Cascades, and biking on Lopez Island. I once again delight in the fabulous multi-hued landscape of southern Utah and the flamboyant sunsets of the Gulf Coast. I peruse the remarkable array of birdlife that we’ve seen, from tiny colorful songbirds to boisterous nesting colonies of egrets and spoonbills. I remember the delicious crawfish we had in Cajun Country, and the excellent paella in Boise.
Reflecting back on yet another year of travels, I’m amazed at all that we’ve done—and I’m extraordinarily grateful that we set out on this journey three-and-a-half years ago.
I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t admit to moments when I wonder if we’ll really be able to get back out there (“there” meaning back on the road, embracing whatever adventure captures our interest). We’re told that this is a normal part of the healing process—it takes time to heal emotionally and spiritually from a radical life event, just as it takes time to heal physically.
All in all, we’re doing pretty darned well. Eric had his two-month follow-up appointment yesterday with the cardiologist, and he passed with flying colors. Another couple of months, and we should be back to our pre-falling-off-the-cliff definition of normal. Yay!!
As we reminisce over our photos and our adventures, I am reminded yet again of how important it is to follow the thread of our dreams, so that those dreams become reality, and then become wonderful memories. And I envision us back out there, doing what we love, and making more memories.