Occasionally there’s that parent who is living – or at least experiencing – their frustrations, ambitions, dreams, goals and what-have-you through their kids lives. The more train-wreck end of the documentary market feasts upon these instances where these families are famously dysfunctional. Let’s be honest, it makes good (if not wholesome) telly. Indeed, there are some mighty famous names from the UK and to an oft more dramatic degree – where else? – the USA.
How I scoff, tut and shake my head. Who would do such a thing?
Me.
Turns out COVID19 has changed the world to such an extent that my travel plans/ambitions have been put on ice. My eco warrior halo shines brightly with a tally of zero flights since March ‘twenty. Google Maps monthly summary shows travel limited to local villages, often by bicycle. (Although I have been from Mumbai to Dubai to Durban to Dubrovnik via the ol’ haunted fishtank. Aka Zoom/Teams/BlueJeans/GoogleMeet. I have traveled the many corridors of corporate video software that’s for sure.)
From my desk I am so a globetrotter dahling.
Firstborn, however, is doing it for real.
She can tell her own story in her own way and I look forward to it immensely in due course! In fact, some time in mid June my role as airport chauffeur will afford the earliest first-person opportunity since April. Hmmm. That’s ages. While we wait for her tales of derring do, what’s to be done?
Fret, apparently.
What I didn’t expect to be so anxiety inducing? A new sensation: powerless parent. Silly really, because she is thousands of miles away, across a vast ocean, seven time zones distant: what on earth did I expect?
(To releive any potential stress for you dear reader, she's better-than-fine: thriving and having the proverbial good time. She is starting her voluntary work this week... super cool.)
Expected or not – thoroughly planned as we were – a couple of minor hiccups set my blood pressure soaring. When she struggled to get cash and a SIM card? I simply couldn’t sleep. And here I was thinking when the bambinos grow up I can stop worrying…
While I have acted as travel agent, destination consultant and administrative assistant I neglected to manage my own neuroses. Full marks for being a fool! Thankfully, she’s got a solid head on her shoulders so her Dad’s worrying will have approximately zero affect upon her.
The challenge now is not to over-react to the next, inevitable, travel hiccup. [Sigh.] I dearly wish I had my own travels to worry about…
Bon voyage!
aroundtheworldin84days 