…They seemed to come suddenly upon happiness as if they had surprised a butterfly in the winter woods…
-Edith Wharton
The adventure of Tibet
Circa 2011. I tried my hardest to look confident, but inside, I was Jello—the yellow kind with carrot shards nobody wants to eat. For months, I had been planning and dreaming of this photographic trip to Tibet, and now that I was sitting in the airport, well, yikes. Despite my mature age, I had only traveled alone by plane once before. This trip meant I would make transfers in Chicago and Tokyo and then arrive in Chengdu, China, hoping someone would meet me from the photo group. Did I mention I only sorta-kinda-barely knew one person in the group? So, yes, I was nervous.
My sweet husband had talked his way through security to sit with me at the airport gate until departure. (Ah, the good old days!) He held my hand and made diversionary small talk. Then, umpteen nervous trips to the bathroom (on my part) later, it was time to board. My husband and I hugged, kissed, and hugged some more. As I started to turn away, he held me close for one more second and whispered in my ear, “Have fun.”
I can’t explain why those two words changed everything, but they did.
My breathing returned. My heart slowed down. This was an extraordinary opportunity. Why had I gotten tangled in worry instead of possibilities? Me being me, I guess.
Heading into the jetway, I turned to see my husband once more and mouthed, “I love you.” He mouthed it back. That was all the carry-on I needed.
It was a crazy adventure, that trip to Tibet, and one I will always cherish. I made all the connections, but nobody from the photo group met me when I arrived in Chengdu. I waited and looked and hoped. At long last, I noticed a man holding a sign, written in pencil, with my name spelled wrong. He had been asked to retrieve me and bring me to the hotel. The fact that he didn’t know any English words and I don’t speak Chinese made for some lively pantomiming along the route. It was late at night, and I relinquished any sense of control. Have fun, I thought, just have fun.
Winter Scene
Circa, well, today…
My husband’s stroke often means he struggles to find the words he wants. This is sometimes hilarious and sometimes vexing. I grabbed my purse, readying myself to run errands in town. “Do you need anything?” I asked. He said he didn’t think so.
My mind was already clicking down the “to-do” list as I reached for the door. “Honey,” my husband called out, “Have fun.”
Once again, it made all the difference.
How about you? What words have changed your life for the better?
