Now that I've had time to relax and reflect while cruising between these beautiful and fascinating Hawaiian Islands, I wanted to share a few thoughts about how all this started. 

I've always had a bit of wanderlust in me, being the child of a career Army soldier that was sent all over the world.  It was a way of life until he retired in 1969.  Life moved on, I plunged into a career, fell in love, married and had two boys.  My boys are the love of my life and I am very blessed they are a part of my life.  They are now grown and healthy, productive members of our society, all I ever wanted them to be.  I'm very proud of who they have grown into; morally strong, caring, compassionate men.   We are not only parent and child but friends as well.  What more could you ask for?

My career and marriage came to an end around the same time.  I've always wanted to travel, explore and visit and hubby was not the explorer at all.  So, among other things, the divide got wider and we no longer had much in common.  We've turned out to be much better friends than we were roommates and all is good.  As my retirement approached, I began to think more and more about all the places I wanted to go and see. I went places for a week or two and returned home.  My house was littered with picture books and my study had piles of pictures torn out of magazines and printed off the internet of all the fascinating places that captured my attention.  My son gave me a huge wall map, 4' x 6' that I hung in my study and I would refer to it every time I read a story about a place I'd never been.  I retired  and took a few  "part-time" jobs that filled my days and always gave me purpose, challenges and rewards but I kept looking at the picture books.

In the Summer of 2014, a very dear friend passed away unexpectedly.  He and I were the same age, had gone to high school together and retired about the same time.  His death kicked me in the stomach.  He was 61 years old, recently retired and suddenly, on a Sunday evening, he sits down and never gets up again.  My father died at age 63, also of a heart attack.  This same summer, another friend passed away sitting at his computer.  The wheels started REALLY turning at this point.  I wanted no regrets.  I was strong, healthy and determined to see the world before I couldn't, before an illness or injury would prevent me from seeing and doing all the things I was dreaming about.  My friends never had the opportunity.  This hair brained idea was born:  What if I put everything in storage, rented my house (to free up the money I spend on mortgage and utilities) and took off on one way tickets around the world?  It's got to be way cheaper that way and I could get it all out of my system at one time.   I could make it work!  I am now on a mission!

I resigned from my part-time job that I loved with a passion, huge step #1.   It was a very emotional  event, to walk away from something I love so much and the people that meant so much to me.  Many tears were shed over that decision.

I advertised my house for rent and it rented right away, huge step #2.  I've never handed my home over to anyone unknown to me........ever.  It was one of the scariest things I've ever done.  I started packing up my house for storage, took car load after car load of stuff to Good Will and  donated all my professional, career suits and dress clothing to a charitable organization that helps battered and abused women re-enter the work force.  I threw away so much.  I kept thinking, "where in the hell did all this crap come from?"  For the first and only time in my life, I woke up in the middle of the night and had a full blown panic attack over what I was doing and if it was all going to work.  It took me 3 hours to calm down, doing yoga chants and meditation hums (Ommm).  I truly feared I would be found several days later deceased in my bed from a heart attack.  That thought just added more fuel to the panic attack!

I left my dog with my ex-husband, huge event #3.  Cried and cried.  She is my side kick, my Road Trip buddy, my friend, my "OMG I'm so happy you're home" roommate.  She is a rescue dog my son found at the shelter 2 1/2 years ago, thrown away by someone and brought to my house where there she stayed.  Timing was awful, I'd just started my part-time job but she quickly nestled her way into my heart and home and became a part of me.  And now I had to leave her with someone else.  I had no qualms about my ex, he'd kept her before for me and she loved him and he loved her. I was the one crying.  I knew she would be loved and cuddled but it wouldn't be by me.  I knew it was temporary and I would get her back but I miss her more than anything.

So, house packed and in storage.   Keys turned over to a family that will (hopefully) take care of my home.  Bella now living with Ron and loving life at the beach and I'm homeless and living out of a suitcase.  I kept asking myself:  What in the hell have you just done?  My stomach was in knots, churning.  I was in a perpetual state of feeling like I wanted to throw up.  I couldn't eat and actually lost some weight those last couple of weeks.  My brains were scrambled from getting my affairs in order to leave with my son to manage and plan my trip, all the flights, rooms and arrangements for where I would be staying during my travels. I couldn't carry on a conversation or make an intelligent decision without it consuming way more time than it needed.  As my departure date neared,  I was stressed, distressed, nervous, excited, light headed, a complete mess!  I hoped that as I stepped onto the first plane to Los Angeles, every thing would fall into place and I would begin to enjoy the fruits of my labors of the past few months.  And, it did.  It's going to be a remarkable journey, a life changing event, something that I will always be glad I did, even though it turned my life upside down.  All good!