Note: This series has a post from Lindsay and a post from Elaine each telling their perspective on the same trip. You can check out Elaine's Iceland 2017 here.
When mom ran into passport expiration issues preventing her from traveling to Kenya in 2016 a travel opening occurred. Dad and I went to Kenya for my Kenyan brother’s nursing school graduation (a tale for another time…) Since Dad and I were getting a trip together, she turned to me and asked with her Texas twang “Where do you want to go? It has to be someplace Lufthansa flies to use my Kenya ticket.”
This was pretty broad range. I could choose adventure. I could choose horseback riding. I could choose hiking. I could choose new or revisiting someplace we had been before. This conversation was happening at Christmas of 2016. Iceland was a spot that many of my friends had been to and raved about. While my husband at the time (now ex) and I had thought we might go, there were no plans on the books and it seemed like the kind of adventure mom would love.
“Iceland.” I said.
She squished her eyebrows together, pulled her head back a little and said, “Iceland? Why would anyone want to go to Iceland?”
“I’ve heard it is really pretty and has amazing scenery.” I replied, unfazed by her clear repulsion.
“Colorado is pretty and has amazing scenery. I’m not sure I want to got to Iceland.”
Back to the drawing board I went. I looked up the up and coming travel destinations for 2017. #3 was Tajikistan. A friend of mine was from there and often talked about the beautiful mountains and fascinating history. I also found a 2 week horseback riding trip in southern France (a challenging new experience in a place we had both traveled to before). Back to the discussion.
“I’ve got three options. #1 Tajikistan. #2 horseback riding for 2 weeks in southern France. #3 Iceland.”
“Ok. Iceland.”
So. We picked the dates and I started planning. I planned every part of the trip. From the moment we landed to the moment we took off. I thought about how she would feel after the trip in and landing at 7am. I thought about what adventures would sing to her soul. I thought about what we could see there and no where else. I thought about the history and the sites. I planned every part of the trip. Rental car. Hotels. Site seeing. Horseback riding. Glacier lagoon. Capital city. Almost to the minute including rest.
Now. What you have to understand is that following my dad’s stroke, my mom has had to deal with every single nitty gritty detail of life. And many of those details are not just to do something or not to do something. But most of those details actually have a life/death consequence. Or a get stuck in a place with no help consequence. Or an “and if he falls I can’t do anything about it” consequence. And so while we all have details to deal with in our lives, my mom’s details are extremely consequential. You add to that a long list of food allergies and you have some very difficult logistics to navigate. Daily. So having a schedule she didn’t have to think about was a gift, not a tamping down of spontaneity.
The date of the trip finally arrived. I had our plan in a little booklet that I made and had printed for both of us (imagine an itinerary for a cruise) complete with space for us to write haikus about each day should we feel so inspired. I was finishing packing and called mom since I knew she would be on her way to the Denver airport.
Me: How are you doing?
Mom: Good. Excited, but I don’t know for what in particular.
Me: Me too!
Mom: Your dad asked me last night “what hotel are ya’ll staying at the first night?” and I said “I don’t know.” And then he asked “what town are ya’ll staying in the first night?” and I said “I don’t know.” And then he asked “where are you meeting Lindsay?” and I said “I don’t know.” He was a little concerned, but I knew you’d have a plan.
Me: You were right! I have our little booklets ready to go. When you land, go through customs, get your bags, go out through the last security gate and I’ll be there. I don’t know what it looks like or how to tell you where I’ll be. But I’ll be there and I’ll have already picked up the rental car.
Mom: That sounds great.
Me: We’ll have an hour drive to a little town where there is a museum and then a little more of a drive to where our hotel is. So, it will be a day of sitting, seeing and learning.
Mom: Sounds great. See you soon!
And all that went off without a hitch.
Each evening, as our day wound down, we would have this conversation:
Mom: Today was so wonderful. Can we do the same thing again tomorrow?
I would get up, go to the front desk, ask if they had availability (they always did), come back to the room to report.
Me:We can stay tomorrow night and we can do the same thing we did today tomorrow. And if we do, we’ll miss out on [the next day’s plans].
Mom (after a pause): Ok. Let’s keep going. Tomorrow sounds really nice.
And my soul would fill with gratitude for her willingness to follow me on the adventure I had planned for her. And for how much she loved each day.
There were only 2 days she didn’t say “Can we do this again?” about. One was the day I put regular fuel in the diesel car (the diesel handles in Iceland are black…) and the car wouldn’t start and we had to get a replacement from the capital. No request to repeat that day. And the other was the 6 hour round-trip drive to get to the lagoon with the glacier chunks. Beautiful, totally different and special, but the next day was the Blue Lagoon and the capital and driving more wasn’t a top priority.
There are probably 15 more tales I could tell about this trip. “Horse: The best hamburger in the world”, “Off Roading: The reason mom doesn’t get to lead on the hiking trail” “Dritvik: The shortest fishing season ever” “Hold On! The best day of horseback riding ever” “The adorable churches of Iceland”. But I’ll leave those for another time.
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