Is it my time yet?Not everyone feels the need to travel the globe seeing concerts, but evidently, I do. There were 100 different things I coulda woulda shoulda done with the money. But you see, coulda woulda shoulda doesn't seem to matter to me – never has.
There's so much more I could say about how we ended up on this journey, like that my mom passed away the night we got the tickets and that it seemed right to go, or that there was a small amount of money coming my way after her death that financed the trip, or that there was a talk with a friend at a pivotal moment who said, "in six months or a year, what will you remember, the bills you paid or a trip to see Prince in France?"
So I went. I did it for myself and I also did it for Mom. A person who had a rough life - - a person who never got on a plane....and she certainly never made it to Paris. The beauty of it all...now she's seen Paris - - I took here there with me - - in my heart.
So yes, we took off to Paris, and rode a train North from Gare du Nord to a magical (oh so faraway place) called "the Citadel", and we had the time of our lives! Me, the not so great flyer, who gets antsy and always likes to measure "is it my time" when I get on a plane... and "If it's my time I will know in the first three minutes of take off". I do an inventory of loose ends. I check in with myself to see if anything is unfinished - - "nope – I'm ok if I go"...ugh...and then I wait and see...(laughing...I've gotta laugh...)
Of course the good news is, it wasn't my time. Here I am back in Los Angeles, on a balcony, typing on my Macbook on a very hot summer day, getting to tell you about my wonderful trip. Thank you God for another week on this planet, cuz you really never know.....
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