Vacations are good reminders of how lucky J. and I are. We have the means and the flexibility and the health, especially the health, to travel. Pack a few clothes and my pharmaceuticals, find someone to care for Jelly, and we’re out the door in no time.
As my 5th cancerversary celebration, this trip has special meaning. That J. surprised me isn’t saying much; I’m so oblivious that J. could plan anything without my knowing. My ignorance doesn’t make me any less grateful for her efforts, however. Her summer is absurdly busy–she married 9 couples last weekend alone–yet she managed to squeeze in a few days off somehow.
And so we find ourselves hanging out in another city, walking our socks off (such a strange expression, since shoes hold our socks in place), and enjoying being somewhere different. It wouldn’t really matter where we went or what we did; I’d be happy we acknowledged the milestone.
Packing for this trip was a breeze, at least to start. Sunscreen? Check. Walking shoes? Check. Personal pharmacy? Checks. But what to wear? I am temporarily wardrobe challenged, although you may resent my complaining about my shrinking from Large to Medium. I’m not complaining; I’m simply telling you I need a few clothes that fit.
Cancer killed my love of shopping long ago. I never want to overspend because whatever I buy today may not fit tomorrow. Still, I anticipated shopping success on this trip, so I left space in the suitcase for my purchases, and packed only three shirts for three days. I failed to factor in the possibility of a heat wave and the discomfort of a sweaty t-shirt. I also failed to consider that my search might fail.
Two days passed, two hot and humid days, and my shirt inventory was almost depleted. Last night, after returning to our hotel, making dinner over a hot stove, the sweat dripping off me (I felt like a contestant on Chopped), I had two choices: I could shower or faint from heat stroke. I chose the former.
After the shower, I couldn’t put on the same wet t-shirt without causing a scene. J. suggested I wear my last shirt last night and then again today. Either that or try out the emperor’s new clothes, which would have caused an even better scene. Wearing the same shirt two hot days in a row would have to do.
After my shower, I went to get my last t-shirt from my suitcase, only to discover that I was smarter than I thought: I had brought a fourth shirt just in case, but I forgot I’d packed it. (Now do you understand how easy it would be for J. to pull off a surprise?) Of course the fourth t-shirt was my #grateful shirt. Do you even have to ask? And, yes, I was grateful to find it.
In time, I will outfit myself with a few new shirts that fit. I was reminded that not everything happens on my schedule. Until then, I will make do with voluminous shirts.
“Why no mention of pants?” you ask. For a long time now, I’ve known better than to throw out my skinny jeans. Life is full of surprises.