What helps with this is that after a few weeks of vacation, I usually come down with a touch of homesickness. I love my home state of Wyoming ~ the wide open spaces and high mountain peaks. So typically I am ready to come home, except for two vacations: this past trip to Little Corn Island, Nicaragua, and in the late 90's when Scott and I went to Tanzania. When our little plane lifted off from the Serengeti airstrip I actually cried.
On our most recent trip to Little Corn Island, I became very attached to the place and I especially liked the pace of 'living' there. The island is small and mostly undeveloped. In fact, there are no roads, just paths through the jungle and not one motorized vehicle on the entire island. It took us three flights over three days plus a boat ride to get there. Electricity is spotty or non existent and you can forget about other modern comforts, like hot showers. But because of this, the island is beautiful and unspoiled and you can walk on the beach all day and only run into a few other souls. My kind of place ~ a place I could get used to, easily.
But more than missing this beautiful paradise, I knew that I would miss the rhythm of my days spent with my family. It was heavenly to enjoy each other without the daily stresses of getting up for school, packing lunches, going to swim lessons/soccer/violin, rushing home for dinner and homework then bath and bedtime. On the island, we could just enjoy each other's company and simply be. We stayed up late at night reading Treasure Island to the kids and watching fireflies in the mangrove swamp behind our beach house.
In addition to our non-schedule, we had the freedom to be yes-parents. Mommy, can we go swimming in the ocean tonight, under the stars? YES! Can we stay out a little longer to play, please? YES! Can I have a Coke? YES! (How can you pass up an ice cold coke in a glass bottle, with a straw, in the tropics!?) Can I finish my homework tomorrow (and tomorrow and tomorrow)? YES! We would pay for that last one as Ben did all 2 1/2 weeks of his schoolwork on the last Sunday ~
|Snorkeling by starlight.|
|Middle Teton, Grand Teton (13,770') and Mount Owen|
It occurred to me while contemplating the waves, the sand mountains, and in particular, Ben and Laura's footprints in the sand, that I can't hold onto vacations any tighter than I can Ben and Laura's littleness. Everything changes and they grow up, too soon. But I can embrace all these moments in between, and even try to embrace the going-homes.
And on the trip home we were stuck on Big Corn Island for what seemed like eternity, waiting for the plane from the mainland. Here we were, our little family, far from home and stranded in a small, hot tropical airport. In this limbo of waiting, this simply be-ing, it seemed like we'd become more like travelers and less like tourists. And with this moment of insight (like at the beginning of our trip) I felt completely satisfied. We did it, success! Success not in terms of a perfect trip, but in enjoying the moments and actually pulling off a trip that I didn't think was possible (or at the very least, advisable with kids!) Success in being, not just going and doing. And finally, with my family in tow, the trip felt complete and I felt like going home. Well, sort of.