I am mentally preparing to fly solo as a parent while my husband covers the myriad awards ceremonies coming up in L.A.
You know they say there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.
My theory is that people go through this cycle more often than in reference to a death; this cascade might follow in response to any bad news.
Denial: At first I said, “I’ll go with for part of the time,” and was spinning my wheels for weeks asking relatives in California about their spare rooms, estimating rental car fees, pricing out the cost of shipping my car (I took bids using an online portal), even clicking around RV rental sites.
We weren’t really going to be apart for 6 weeks.
Then, my husband’s itinerary changed. His stay was broken up into four shorter stays, and the practicality of me traveling with him didn’t make sense anymore. There was more denial upon hearing this, before…
Anger: Tonight, I got agitated. Immediately I started…
Bargaining: Whenever we can foresee a busy time in both our lives, I ask my husband if we can put some alone time on the calendar to look forward to, to reconnect, to make up for lost time, and if I get my way, to disconnect from the Internet or any source of news whatsoever. (My hubby’s a news correspondent, and both by necessity and by proclivity, a news junkie). I was frustrated tonight and said something stupid. I said if we didn’t plan something together, I’d just take off! And Safari was open to…
El Salvador, Turks and Caicos, Costa Rica, Jamaica, TripAdvisor, AA.com, Orbitz, HomeAway.com, Google Calendar… I had so many tabs open, my browser was wheezing.
Well, that wasn’t a fair tactic to try and get my mate on a plane to someplace warm and relaxing—hotheadedness often backfires on me. And we went to bed without any tropical itinerary booked.
Depression: I cried a little around midnight, hugging my electric blanket for warmth, while the news junkie rested up for another day of reporting (on the radio).
Acceptance: Look. He wants and deserves to take a vacation as much as I do. Like many parents, our last vacation was our honeymoon. Though family visits are nice, they don’t count.
Really, if it doesn’t involve a passport, a scary ride to a destination that looks way different than the brochure, and finally a brew of something local to make you forget how you got there and just appreciate the view, then it doesn’t count as a vacation.