It started on day 3. Beginning small, I sorted out and clipped together the business cards of restaurants I have been to into the states of the union, their neighborhoods and those that I have not been to but want to try. I next attacked the larger, challenging, travel file drawer, which is divided into travels past, travel in the near future and travel done and gone.The travels past drawer includes the local information and restaurants we went to on our vacations (Italy, California, Southwest and Greece, et al). This collection of ticket stubs, town maps and event schedules that dates back too long to be relevant makes me think of whether I should continue to keep them. Until I have no room, I’ll keep them for the sake of good memories. Travel of the near future holds newspaper clippings and magazine articles on places yet to see (Austin, Berlin, New Orleans. Machu Picchu, et al). There is a sub-folder in the works for areas in upstate New York that my husband and I may consider retiring to. That folder also includes St. Augustine, Florida. All of these represent things to come but the retirement one is just so hard to commit to at this time. Then there is the folder of places I visited doing things I will never do again. After having spinal surgery for the second time, I probably have to give up skiing. I love it, skiing is great but if I fall, it could be a real end to do alot more. It saddens me to do so, but I look at my brochures from Banff and Whistler and know I skied in some of the best places ever. I wish I skied Aspen or Vail, but I didn’t and won’t. But I will surely live, literally. The travel collection just represents what I want to live for but it is my health that I want the most. My restaurant visits and travel days rely on my being able to eat anything I want, go anywhere I can and to keep my money (and make more of it) so I can afford it all. Aside from relieving me of my pain, I had this operation in the hopes that I could go on to lead the life I want. Last night, I booked a flight to Belize in October; something different and maybe a new door. I learned to ski at 50. I might learn to swim at 60, or I might not. It just matters that I have my health and I can try.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
It seems to be the irony of my life that the only way to get me to stop moving was to put me in a neck brace for 4 weeks. On day 2 after my spinal surgery I was already ready to blow my brains out. I knew it would be bad, but just how much awful can television get if the only thing I can find on a Friday night is a rerun of the 1972 version of the Heartbreak Kid. I’m not good at this laying low thing, but through the magic of organization, it can be a time to review the past and become hopeful for a great future.