Preparation

I guess that’s a good a title as any, I’ve been sitting here in my Girl Scout mode trying to decide how to tell you about my organized self getting ready to go not just to San Antonio overnight, but to Barcelona for a week. All I can think of is stories about my two most loved people in the world for whom preparation was only a four syllable word. Both have been met by angels to ease their way to heaven, so you can just shake your head without embarrassment. The dear husband’s idea of being ready was to stand at the foot of the bed at 4:30 in the morning before he left for the airport and say, ‘Honey, got any spare cash?” He would be gone all week and was carrying an all purpose saddle case with toothbrush, socks, and a pair of underwear. After all, if he needed anything surely New York had some place that sold it and he didn’t like waiting for luggage to arrive. My best friend from the fourth grade and only bridesmaid in my wedding was a petite pageboy blond whose very utterance of, “Ohhh,” called forth a line of boyfriends and me to see if we could help.

Then there is me. I was raised by a mother who managed to have in her purse whatever from an umbrella to a clean linen handkerchief. Between her training and my natural inclination to be a list maker, I rank right up there next to the post office delivery for not being deterred by weather, or schedule changes, or even something to snack on. One begins at the most distant point out and and works toward D-Day. It is Tuesday and my dining room table has two file folders with information for dealing with taxes when I get home. Balancing the far corner are all necessary travel documents from tickets to passport. This morning I bought small zip-lock bags and in the next quiet moment I will count and label pills. After all I am at what causes doctors to say, “At your age.” and I don’t know about Spanish Walgreen’s.

Thank goodness for Wunderground that reveals more about the weather for the week than I may need to know. An early morning temperature of 48 strongly suggests an available outer layer and at least two long sleeve turtlenecks for someone whose springtime is bumping against summer. Not being a strong turtle, I’m a minimalist of carrying with me. If I can’t manage by myself, that it doesn’t go. For the next two days the suitcase will be open. Clothes go in one day and out the other until a zip up early Saturday. I will be gathered by a daughter and a son-in-law who has already supplied me with Euros. Adventure awaits and I know the phrases for finding a bathroom and my hotel. Like the Israelites of yore, I will have finished my banana. I will be attired in comfortable shoes and appropriate clothes. No staff, but a new walker is ready for ease of walking and availability of sitting. Check! Let’s move out!

Now you shall eat it in this manner: with your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it in haste.

Exodus 12;11