Chapter 5: Time passes

The last few months have been disorienting, but good. I had to return to whatever I might call my normal routine - work, domestic tasks, time with family and friends, various entertainments and going outside to walk, or drive with my husband. These are the things that make up my middle aged life. A life many would think narrow in scope, but one that satisfies me in many ways. I may be satisfied because I don't know better; I am sure I am satisfied because I choose to be; perhaps I am satisfied because I have a wonderful imagination, a great enjoyment for the ordinary pleasures of life and a philosophy of finding and cherishing meaning and beauty. 

Among these activities of my normal life, I also collected the items from Jennifer's list. I didn't rush, and took my time to choose products that I liked and felt were of high quality. I added to a growing pile in my attic, until one day in early spring, when the wind carried both cold and warm at the same time, and my heart began to lift and long for adventure, I realized that my collection was complete. There were no more preparations - my supplies were ready and as for my mind, how could I prepare for something so mysterious?

Physically I feel uncertain. My normal walking routine of one hour a day in all weathers allows me to feel fairly confident so far as an afternoon of walking might go, but beyond that, I am uncertain. Will we be walking great lengths, or will there be a bus or train or car? I really don't know, and Jennifer told me not to worry about it. So I'm choosing to at least try not to.

I do feel worried. I feel terrified! And also excited. Venturing into the unknown with a complete stranger is so far from anything I have ever experienced as to leave my mind nearly blank with anxiety. Yet when I remember what it felt like to walk with her - I am not afraid. Though I admit, it seems like a dream, like another person's life. So maybe what I am looking into, when I look into the future, is to become another person. Or to dream. It's impossible to realize so I return to my routine and my interests and let the future take of itself.

My husband feels differently. He is actively concerned and trying to talk me out of it. He's not a fearful person by any means, nor a controlling one - we live a peaceful domestic life of shared and parallel activities, enjoying our hobbies and routines as they flow together and in two streams. He wants for me what I want for myself - to let go of the fear of travel - and is always helping me by going on practice drives with me and encouraging me to feel confident. Much of what I am capable of right now has come from his steady, loving support. But in this situation, he is agitated, far more than myself.

I don't blame him. What I have described to him is surreal, and what I plan to do is bizarre. He would not be a loving man if he was not upset about this. We've never been in a situation where I was completely committed to an action he was completely against. It's a test of our trust, of our relationship. There must be some compromise? If I call him every night? If he comes along? That is out of the question. I'm not sure why, but I know it's not possible. This journey is for me, not for us. So we fight about it, we plead with each other, we try to look at it rationally, or come to compromises, but in the end, we both know that I am going and he is going to live with his worries about me. We both know this is something I must do, if only because for years and years, despite many satisfactions, this fear has caused me a deep sense of sadness, for all that I've lost, and that I would do anything to find my way to the other side of it.