I just returned home from a 5 day trip down to San Antonio. My daughter accompanied me and we had a great time being together in that beautiful city.
This trip was been planned over a year ago and I have been stressed out over it ever since. I appealed to my school planning committee to amend our calendar so that I would be able to attend the annual conference offered by the Texas Music Educator's Association (TMEA). In my 11 years of teaching at my current school, I have only been able to go three times because of a scheduling conflict. The committee approved my request and I was so excited to get to go again....and then my world turned upside down. My dad and I went together the first time; my husband went with me the second time; who would go with me now? During our separation I mentioned this upcoming trip to my husband stating that I didn't want to go without him. He said he was sure I could find a dad from my school that would be happy to accompany me. EW. I had to make lodging reservations back in the spring, so I reserved a room that would accommodate my folks, my kids, and myself. We'd just make it a family thing, I thought. Then my Dad had a stroke, and I discovered that my kids weren't going to be able to go because of school and extra-curricular commitments. I began to really worry about whether or not I would be able to make the trip at all. But my brave grew. I decided I was going to go no matter what. I even contemplated flying down there, but my brave nor my pocketbook were quite that big. At the last minute, Esther decided to go with me. I was relieved and delighted, but also somewhat nervous. I have never driven that far before. More steps of faith were required.
As we set out, I told myself that I was driving to Tyler (a shortish drive which I've made before). From Tyler, I told myself I was driving to the Collin Street Bakery in Corsicana - just a "few" miles up the road. From Corsicana, Waco was the destination. We arrived in Waco and visited the Magnolia Market made famous by the HGTV show "Fixer Upper". Only one leg of the trip left and that was to arrive alive in Pflugerville (a suburb of Austin) where my Aunt Patricia lives. When I pulled up into her driveway, I almost burst into tears. "I drove to Austin", I said in disbelief. The next morning we left for San Antonio, with my brave fully intact. I had no idea where I was going but I had the GPS and a copilot. Upon arriving downtown, there was NO ground level parking to be found, so I had to wind my way up to the top of a parking garage, a pretty huge phobia of mine, but I did it! I got our conference badges at registration, we maneuvered through the enormous conference center. I handled the one way streets and checked us into our hotel (something I have never done on my own before). The next day we wound our way through the city streets, didn't get lost and did it in record time - the estimated 15-20 minute walk was covered in 10 minutes - little legs know how to move! We only slightly got lost in the dark on the Riverwalk, but we did not stay lost, nor did we accidently get murdered. AND, we had a grand and memorable adventure!
I was so worried about the unknown. I was also dreading a flood of any unwelcomed memories. Its sometimes hard to be places or do things that were "special" before. But I'm learning to set my eyes straight ahead and not let places or activities or even holidays (today is the dreaded Valentines - first one I've spent alone in 20 years) be defined or tainted by the past. There are happy memories that can be cherished and remembered, but oh, there are better experiences to be made and much happier times to come. I want to believe it, so I do.
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