london. the city & my daughter.

London has been a homebody since she a wee thing.

She wrote an essay about it for English recently – her love of home. (And she called our home “endearingly chaotic” and I love that.)

Aside from being with her friends, the place she most likes to be is at home. She’s a creature of habit and she likes coming back from a vacation pretty much more than going on vacation.

I love home too. Its comfortable and warm and cozy and I’m always happy to be here.

But, unlike London, I also adore a good road trip. I’m never not thinking of the next adventure – big or small. Show me new things, sights unseen, vistas unexplored. If I don’t have a trip on the horizon, I’m a little off kilter.

So a year or more ago when she said that for her graduation gift she’d love to travel to London, England, I was ecstatic. Giddy. We checked out books from the library. She created a shared Google Doc of Places We Wanted to Visit in England. (It was full of all the touristy things and we didn’t care.)

In the fall we applied for our passports. Aware of the shifting time in which we’re living, but hopeful nonetheless.

Last week the passports arrived at our house, all representative of eagerness and hope and plans. Of big changes and milestones and celebrations.

And yet, it’s not looking promising for London to be in London, England. 14 day quarantines to enter the country puts a real hamper on our time allotted. And our resources.

We’re looking at state side alternatives and we’re not exactly counting it out yet, but we need a Plan B and a Plan Wait Until College Graduation. (That one is not my favorite because life has taught me a little bit about guarantees and their lack of trustworthiness and the variables are too high in that many years for something to knock this off course.)

There are future boyfriends and studies abroad and careers and just plain old changings of the mind.

Frankly, it’s already struggle enough to let this one grow up and out, it’s heart wrenching to miss out on a real live trip she wants to go on WITH ME.

So we’re both a little sad every time England is mentioned and even as we look at mountain cabins or other stateside alternatives, we both can’t help but feel a little deflated.

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