Last night Artie and I started to lay out our spring break trip to the West Coast.
I get very dreamy and hopeful looking for places to stay. I know how new places, if well-chosen, can enchant.
I’m very susceptible to enchantment.
The boys are more susceptible to fun and opportunities to climb, clamber and roam.
And Artie longs for peace and quiet.
I think I’ve found a place of mountains and sea that will offer all of the above (will report back once I’ve been proven right or wrong).
Thanks to the internet for putting it all out there, at my fingertips, if I roam far enough digitally. How did we find just the right places pre-www? It’s a mystery.
So last night, full of anticipatory enchantment, I went to bed late and happy.
Then this morning I woke up from one of those hard dreams I’ve been having again. Dreams of Mama very sick, very hurt and dying.
She asked me not to forget her in my search, to also find her a place on the West Coast where she could die.
No, sweet Mama, you’re not dying anymore. You’ve done that. You’re done with that. You no longer need a place. You can roam furthest of us all.
And we’ll be sure to go see places that enchanted you – once upon a time.