Wanderlust.

Go when you have the chance. 🤍

Almost two decades ago, we traded in Dave’s builder’s points at the local lumber yard for the cheapest flights we could afford and surprised both sets of our parents with them for Christmas in 2008. The next summer, the six of us spent two weeks touring Italy together. Dave and I had already fallen for this country and we wanted to experience it with our parents before we had kids of our own. I’ll never, ever regret the sacrifices we made to make that trip happen. Our time there remains among my very favorite travel memories to date.

Three summers ago, my parents returned with us and we got to re-introduce them to this place we hold so dear. They got to know the ones we call “la nostra famiglia italiana” and understand why we have left half of our heart in this village across the sea.

Dave’s mom hoped to return with us as we got to know this place better over the years. Each time we visited, she’d talk about coming along next time. The other day, I counted and realized that we have now been to Bella Italia twenty-one times. And, yet. I regret so deeply that we didn’t just make her pack her bags and come along one more time.

Because of this deep regret, we didn’t give Dave’s dad the choice. We just returned home after being there together and I’m so thankful we made the trip. Most importantly, we felt Donna so closely that I found myself forgetting she wasn’t with us. I caught myself glimpsing over my shoulder at dinner one night sensing her standing behind me, the beautiful sound of her laughter floating through the evening air.

On the morning we left for this trip, I journaled, “I’m expectant and want to remain open to God's goodness and blessings during this time away. I feel hopeful that He has good, good things in store."

And, we were super abundantly blessed in ways we could have never imagined. I have more to share but I don't want to forget what happened on Wednesday morning. Dave's dad is a devout Catholic and he had hoped to attend Mass often during our time away together. We attended a service in Normandy (in French) and it was beautiful but we didn't understand a word. Wednesday, in our home-away-from-home Italian hill town, we learned of a traveling group from the states hosting Mass in English.

It was the sweetest gift for David as I know this trip has been lovely and fun and wonderful but he has also expressed how deeply he's missing Donna and her absence has been felt each day. We have never heard of an English service in all our years of visiting our adopted Italian town. No doubt Donna had a hand in this.

So, I think this long-winded post is a reminder that we aren’t promised tomorrow. Love your people well and listen to the call of your heart’s song. If, like me, you’ve always been a wanderlust who prioritizes travel over material things, don’t let fear or a packed schedule or an unrealistic expectation keep you from going and bringing along your people. Save miles and use them. Create a travel fund that you contribute to a little at a time. It doesn’t have to be a big, fancy trip. It just has to be intentional. You’ll never regret going. You’ll only regret not going when you still had the chance. 🤍