I think I've always had a yen to travel, to go somewhere new and exciting. But too often, it was not just about going somewhere, it was also about leaving somewhere. 
      I was in 3rd grade the first time I went to Girl Scout camp, and for the next 10 years, those 2 weeks each summer provided a respite from a hard life.
      At age 19, I ran from my childhood, straight into the arms of my first husband.  I was full of dreams of the things we'd do and the places we'd go.  But 10 years later, I was in an empty marriage.  Many nights, instead of putting Seth to bed, I'd put him in the backseat, go to Marion, and at the point where Rt 13 and Rt 57 intersect, I'd drive up the on-ramp, and down the either side, then cross over to the other direction and do the same.  Sometimes I drove that cloverleaf once, sometimes 2 or 3 times, until the need to escape could be contained.
     I was 33 years old when Emily was born with Down Syndrome. Mingled in all the joys that she brought in our lives, there still was grief over the things I imagined I had lost.  I became resigned that I would live my life out as the caretaker of an adult child.
     12 years later, when I met Ray, I was a single mother and traveling was the last thing on my mind.  It was Ray who encouraged me to let Emily attend a week-long camp for kids with disabilities.  The day I picked her up and she didn't want to come home, was the day that it occured to me that she had needed a vacation from me as much as I had needed a vacation from her. 
    Emily unexpectedly died 4 years later, at age 16, and we were abruptly thrust into an empty next.  Mingled with this overwhelming grief came the realization that one chapter of my life had closed, and another chapter was waiting to be written.  A chapter that could include traveling.
    Soon after Emily's death, it became evident that my mother's forgetfulness was much more than that and I set aside my dreams to help care for my parents. 
     Now, with both my parents gone,  it's time.  It's time to fulfill a dream.  It's time to travel.