Aborted Plans

Nothing went as planned, but it turned out perfect just the same. 

I am referring to our vacation in the US this year. It was going to be one month for me, and one additional month for hubby. We were to fly to places unknown with cousins. Tony was scheduled to visit old buddies in other states.

But illness and a mishap got in the way. Tony got sick, then fractured his wrist. We decided to cut short his vacation and come home with me.

I say it was perfect because instead of traipsing all over America, we stayed home and spent all of our time with family—especially with Adrian, whose classes had ended for the year.

When it comes to traveling, Tony is the roamer and I am the roomer.  He loves going places while I am content staying put. With this trip, we discovered we could be both.

Tony needed the month to mend while I joyfully spent most of my time writing (over 40 blog posts scheduled till the end of November!) and dove into experiences I had not yet gone through: pop culture and sports. We watched the latest sci-fi movies and the NBA finals. In between, almost daily, we tried different restaurants in neighboring cities.  

And there were those two awesome days when Adrian’s parents went on an overnight date, leaving with us this delightful dynamo who was Tony’s solicitous caregiver. Grace overload.

The three of us went out to lunch twice—with Tony driving with one hand. This was Adrian’s version of a selfie in a Japanese Restaurant called Shomi, one of his favorite haunts.

The other was Ahipoki, offering raw Hawaiian dishes.

 

Alexander Graham Bell’s words rang true, “When one door closes, another opens.”