I like to think that I live in the moment, being mindful and enjoying what I’m experiencing as it is happening. If I’m truly honest with myself, though, I thoroughly embrace looking ahead with anticipation to future events.
Here’s what’s on the horizon for me at the present.
A second grandchild is due to arrive any day now. The due date was actually July 10, but babies have their own understanding of time. He or she will come exactly when they are meant to come. In the meantime, I keep my phone turned on in anticipation of the phone call. I am the designated First Child swooper-upper. My first and only grandchild just celebrated her second birthday. She has no idea how her world will change even as her parents are trying to prepare her for a younger sibling.
When the time comes, my son-in-law will call me, and I will go over to their house in my grandma car (not my Miata), and bring First Child to my house or go for an outing. Once the baby comes, we will go introduce ourselves to him or her. I am really excited to see how we all react to the new baby, especially First Child.
Timing is crucial for the next event that I am looking forward to. I’ll be flying to Italy to trek across the Alps from Switzerland into Italy. However, I leave ten days after this new grandchild’s due date, so he or she better hurry up! I hate to miss these earliest of days with the baby and the family, but I am also really anticipating this trip.
I’ve been training for the trek, following a schedule the leader has provided. It has taken a lot of time, working in long hikes throughout the preceding weeks. Now that the time is near, I do feel like I am physically prepared for the challenge. We’ll be walking ten to thirteen miles a day, doing two days in a row, then have a rest day, then trek another two days, rest, then one final day’s hike. And no, we’re not camping. We’ll be staying in small village inns along the way.
While I may be prepared physically, I’m not entirely prepared emotionally. Actually, I’m prepared to be surprised and delighted. I have purposefully not looked up photos of the area or information about our lodging or food. Our trip leader has done a great job of planning and organizing, so I feel totally at ease placing myself in her hands.
A friend and I will be joining four other middle-aged women. The six of us have been meeting by Zoom for the past four months, but we really don’t know each other. So I’m anticipating getting to know my fellow adventure travelers and seeing how we gel as a group.
Beyond these two looming events on the horizon, I am in the beginning stages of creating another book. This will be another memoir, but in the form of a collection of essays about my life after Harvey’s death. There will be sections on grief, traveling, hiking, and nature. Currently, I’m gathering what I’ve already written in my weekly blog posts, copying and pasting them into the different parts of the book. Next, I’ll rearrange and edit them, and write new pieces to fill in the gaps.
Rereading some of these essays has been an adventure in self-discovery. I was writing my way through my grief, exploring what I was learning about myself by observing and experiencing my “now” with open eyes and an open heart. My hope is that a book like this will encourage other survivors of loss and grief.
Right now, my horizon looks quite rosy.