Avoiding a Premature Ending
Whenever Jeff and I talk about future big holiday plans/ideas, I always mention Europe. It’s not that I did not thoroughly enjoy our time in Fiji, or Mexico, or Disneyland. Sunshine, beaches and palm trees – all are wonderful, particularly if it is cold and grey back home. But I also want to see centuries-old architecture, visit history, see some of the places my ancestors came from, all that sort of thing. My nieces have both been to Europe, making their way through places like London and Paris and Rome for school trips, taking countless pictures for all of us back home. In fact, my oldest niece has plans to check out some more European sites this summer. But due to differing travel agendas, her travel partner changed from an acquaintance to her mom. And, somehow, I was asked the weekend before last if I wanted to come along.
But not even 24 hours had passed before I had written it off by, oh, 99.9%. There is an annual (and big) project around that time at my place of employment. As such, I was pretty positive my boss would not green light it. Then there is our church’s annual family camp and Jeff and I had already put in our holiday requests. Plus, I really did not see how Jeff and I both could swing such an excursion at this relatively late date.
All the same, I talked with Jeff about it once again on the Saturday night as we washed up the dishes after supper. And he said to not write it off yet – we could make it work for me to go. I shouldn’t assume my boss’s answer would be no before ever talking to her about it.
Me. In some pretty fantastical parts of Europe. For three weeks.
I was, however, hoping a teensy-tiny bit the answer from my boss would be no. I can be a nervous traveller, y’all. I love seeing new places, but leaving and arriving home/to various destinations has me on edge until we’ve safely arrived. So if her answer was negative, Jeff and I would simply keep to the plans we had already made, and I’d dream about Europe for a bit longer.
All the same, I ended up e-mailing my boss about it on Wednesday of last week as she had been home sick since that Monday. She had not yet replied by the time I left for lunch, but I (thankfully) had some errands to run so I wasn’t obsessing over it. (Well, too much anyway.)
Then the moment of truth: I returned to work and found an e-mail waiting for me from my boss.
I can’t give you a verbatim quote of what she said, but this basically sums it up:
I’M GOING TO EUROPE!!!!
My awesome husband is going to let me go for three weeks to see what I can see of Holland, Italy, Austria, and France with my older sister and her daughter because, as he said, I’ve wanted to do this for years. And he doesn’t want me to miss out on the chance to fulfill that dream a little bit sooner, even if it means he’ll probably be eating cheese sandwiches and relearning how to do laundry.
So even as plans start to be set down for what I hope will be a fantastic vacation in every way, I’m sad to be leaving my best friend at home for that long. Oh, I’m sure our Netflix queue will be clogged with anime shows when I get back. The house will need a good cleaning. The cat might treat me as an interloper and greet me with hisses. But … Europe! Getting to look for the street where my mom and her family lived before coming to Canada. Seeing the Eiffel Tower. Italian coffee. So many things! So yes, I’m excited, too.
And to think, I almost wrote the whole thing off right at the start. How sad would that have been had I not been encouraged to give it a go?