Fantasy vs. Reality

Each New Year’s Eve my husband and I get together with a group of friends for a civilized dinner, heartfelt toasts, and predictions for the next year.  We also post our “bucket lists,” ten things we want to do before we die.  High on my list is to visit Nepal.  It’s been on my bucket list since we started making them, but I have yet to travel there.  Recently, my husband asked if I still wanted to go to Nepal, since I hadn’t been talking about it much.  We’ve traveled to other parts of the world over the past several years, and soon plan to go on safari in Africa.

I thought about his question.  Why have I not been seriously making plans to travel to my number one travel destination?  Perhaps because subconsciously I believe that it cannot possibly live up to my high expectations.  I envision an exotic, beautiful, spiritual place, AND I know that pollution is terrible in Kathmandu, and that there is extreme poverty there.  I also worry that the food will not be to my liking, and that I might have difficulty with the high altitude.

Similarly, when we were planning to live in Italy for three months three years ago, I was worried that we might not like living there.  I knew that we both loved visiting that most beautiful of countries, but living there would be an entirely different experience. Long story short, we took the leap and lived at a lovely agriturismo near Florence for 2 ½ months of that time. I can honestly say that those months were some of the best of my life.

No place is perfect, but virtually all countries lend themselves to extraordinary experiences via landscape, history and people, when we open ourselves to them. In that way, Nepal is no different from any other place.  Perhaps Nepal will not be all that I fantasize about, but if I allow the reality of the place to wash over me, I know I will be forever changed.

Time to start planning.  My dream awaits. 

The Sun is in The Sky

My husband's cousin died in his sleep last night at the age of 59.  Frank was a one-of-a-kind character, creative and funny.  Like all of us, he had his share of challenges, most recently some serious medical ones. But he had recovered well and had moved to Cuenca, Ecuador in September of last year. He treated us to a blog about his exploits there, and we were lucky enough to experience Cuenca, if only vicariously, through his photos and words.

Whenever we spoke to Frank by phone, whoever made the call would announce themselves by singing the intro to M.C. Hammer's "Can't Touch This." (Don't ask.)  And invariably, one of us would also quote the Little Rascals ("The sun is in the sky.")  Through these in-jokes, as well as our shared memories, particularly of our swimming adventure at Brush Creek Falls in 1990, we formed an unlikely friendship.  After all, I was just a cousin-in-law, and we saw each other rarely, mostly at Crandell Family reunions. Still, Frank would call periodically to give us the low down on what he was up to and to ask about our family's doings. I always enjoyed hearing from him; his life was never dull, or if it was, he embellished.  I think his craziness complemented my craziness; we just "got"each other.

Anyway, Frank's sudden, early passing confirms for me just how much each of us, in our inimitable uniqueness, touches those with whom we come in contact. We can only guess at the impact we have on others.

Frank, your light will always shine in my memory... The sun is in the sky.