And that’s when I tripped

Life was changing at the most rapid pace.  There was no surety of plan, only that the plan was changing daily.  Things were handled rapid-fire, and through the bitter, the world was opening wide.

I’d always wished to travel, but had come to the resignation that it was not to be.  Photographs and stories of others would have to suffice, along with dreams and a coin jar slowly being filled even if for only one trip.

Simple as it sounds, I’d really just wished for one trip, as I knew my life would never afford more.  Folks asked me, “why would you want to go there, when there are so many other great places in the world?” But it was my dream trip, my top-three list, with one monumental trip at the top.  New York.

The short list was New York, DC, Las Vegas, Mount Rushmore – in that order. New York because of everything.  DC for all the National ‘stuff,’  Vegas for all the glitz and lights and such, and Mount Rushmore to take a selfie with the Presidents. It doesn’t get much more quintessential than that.  After that, yes, I had a very long list, but neatly tucked away, surely to never see the light of day.

I had spent a good length of time trying to save money to get to New York.  I knew you could do a weekend ‘on the cheap,’ but that wasn’t what I wanted to do.  I wanted all of New York, not just some. I’d save, then something would happen and that money would be needed for other things.  You know how it goes.  Priorities.  But I kept saving; no one was going to do it for me.  I wanted to go when I turned 30, but a new baby changed that plan! I wanted to go when I turned 40, but there was no money.  So I set my sights on 50, and meant that come anything short of apocalypse, I would be standing in Times Square the minute the clock struck 12:50.

I divorced the Spring I was 49, I had an envelope with the start of my New York savings account, and had my sights on that December.  I began researching places to stay, events to attend, landmarks to see.  Novice that I was, I was overwhelmed. But remember that man I washed my hands of that just wouldn’t give up?  He had plans.  He had BIG plans.  I should’ve tightened my seatbelt.

From the second he found out that New York was top of my dream list, he started hounding.  “Let me take you to New York.”  “I’ve been there many times.  Let me take you and show you everything.” It was non-stop.  Relentless  – again.  This man does NOT give up.  Ever.  Oh, I kept giving him all the reasons why not, and it didn’t phase him ONE BIT!  But once again he wore me down.  Soon it became not worth the fight.  I gave in.  He won. Again.

I told him I’d go with him on one condition – I wouldn’t sit with him on the plane. This, after all, is Tallahassee, and I know everybody, and nobody knew I was divorced. He conceed, though not happy about it, and not with full understanding.

Being a very unseasoned, novice traveler I was nervous, yet beyond excited. We were going for a weekend and the goal was to keep it all a secret. Which we did, thanks to modern technology. Text messages can make it seems like you’re right across town, when really you’re right up the eastern seaboard. Folks were none-the-wiser and I was setting out on the greatest adventure with a person I really wanted to get to know.

New York was more than I could have ever imagined, and he handed it all to me on a silver platter. A room overlooking Times Square, a Broadway show, museums, great restaurants, long walks and the Brooklyn Bridge – “The Greatest Erection In The World.” There was just no way I could have put all this together, but he did so perfectly. We burned the candle at both ends for two-and-a-half days, taking in every sight and experience we possibly could. He didn’t take me to New York, he gave me New York. It will forever be the greatest trip I could have, because it summed everything.

We snuck back to town, and back to work, as if nothing had happened. But it had happened. And it was glorious. And I wanted more. I needed more. And he planned to give it to me.

He continually pestered me about going to Paris. Paris, France??? No, sir, I cannot. We could sneak away for the weekend, but there’s no way we could sneak away overseas. It would have to wait. But, other places domestic? Now you’re talking.

We snuck off to Vegas, South Florida, St. Augustine, and I don’t remember where. It was amazing fun and incredibly exhausting, but we managed. I told my sister and my co-worker, and that was it. I swore them to secrecy. They complied. It wasn’t until that Thanksgiving that we let the cat out of the bag. At that point we had made it public we were dating and all bets were off. Let’s take on the world and do it together. I thought traveling could be fun, but now I knew it. And couldn’t get enough. Still can’t. In fact, I’m sitting in a hotel lobby as I write this. Flagstaff, AZ. Drove here, which is not the norm for such a distance, but that’s a whole other story. Let’s get back to tripping.

The January after we began quietly dating he planned a surprise trip to an unknown destination. (unknown until he let it slip under the influence of conscious sedation) Turned out it was to Mt. Rushmore; he was checking things off my list. Turned out he proposed marriage there, too. Turned out we honeymooned in Paris. He finally got his way.

It’s been an unbelievable ride, going to all these places. I’m beyond overwhelmed, and know how fortunate I am. I truly didn’t think I’d see with my own eyes any of these places. This sweet husband of mine spoils me absolutely rotten.