"Looks like I'll be going to Europe next spring."
"Oh?" Darin and I were catching up on each others' days, and this announcement of his was better than ALL my glamorous diaper-changing stories.
"Yeah, with the MBA and DBA students. To Paris and Madrid."
"I accept. Thank you for asking. I'll start packing tomorrow."
"That would be great, if you went, too. Obviously not all the details are in place, but let's see what we can do."
That first conversation happened almost a year ago. Throughout the summer and fall months I regularly vacillated between I have to go, how could I not go?!? and There's just no way -- it's too expensive, and who would watch the kids? I'm not going. and back again. Over and over.
Finally in November, after really pondering the possibilities, I made a decision. It was a Sunday, and Darin had come home from his early meetings to help get the kids ready for church when I announced to him, "I've gone back and forth, and I don't like not knowing, so I've made my final decision: I'm going." And with that I decided to get myself ready for church.
Do you do as much thinking in the shower as I do? My own experience had taught me that when it's difficult to make a decision, sometimes the only way to know the correct answer is to make a choice and see where it leads, which is exactly what I had done: I had made the decision to go on the trip. The problem was that it didn't feel right to me, it didn't feel like I had made the correct decision. By the time I was completely dressed and ready to walk out the door that morning, I calmly said to Darin, "After all that . . . I'm not going. Final answer. That's it.
What happened between that day in November and the morning in January when I found myself in the County building, submitting the paperwork to obtain my passport, I'm not certain. But there I was, my final answer had changed and I was doing it: I was moving forward, and I was committed to going to Europe with my husband.