Getting Away

In a few hours, I will be on a plane headed to Europe.  For a lot of people, I'm sure, the day one leaves on a Transatlantic voyage is one of excitement.  For me, I'm a 9-year-old boy.  In a bad way.

When I was 9, I left on a vacation with my sister to Los Angeles.  It wasn't a big deal - we were just going out to see my grandmother.  I'd traveled before, and I wasn't that worried about it.  And the trip itself, outside of a weird experience/dream in a strange house where I could've sworn we'd been broken into, was fine.  The return trip was fine.  It was the news I got when I returned that wasn't fine.

While I was gone, my dad had died.

Now, this won't be a "Drew's dad died" story - it's more of a "how this affected Drew psychologically" story.  Because 9-year-old kids are old enough to think but not smart enough to understand.  So my 9-year-old mind equated "leaving" with "someone dying."  My 9-year-old brain decided that, if I wasn't home, something bad was going to happen.

And, from that day on, I was a worrier.

I worried on the first day of school, nauseated on dozens of occasions.  I was sick on the first day of all three mission trips I went on (including one to Europe).  Going to college was a nightmare - I was sick on the one day of orientation I went to, and I skipped every pre-college activity until the first day of school.  Every time I left home, no matter the destination or the duration, my 9-year-old brain worried that it would be the next time I'd leave and someone wouldn't be there when I got back.

Has it gotten better?  Yes and no.  First of all, let me state that I always got better immediately.  The jitters I got for the first day of school never returned on the second.  On every mission trip that I got sick, I felt better the next day.  I happily went off to TCU in my sophomore through senior years.  What I was dealing with mostly surrounded the plane flight taking me away from my protection duties and the fear of being so far away.

Secondly, I haven't had that problem in a while.  I've been on a number of trips in the last few years with no issues at all.  I think cell phone technology makes things a little easier because people are a phone call away. If someone was in trouble, it'd be harder to keep me in the dark the way I was kept in the past.  And hearing someone's voice helps alleviate the fear that they are dead.

At the same time, I'm sitting here with a little knot in my stomach at the idea of being this far away for the first time in a long time.  Because one of those little creature comforts that makes things so much easier (Mr. Cell Phone) won't be there.  Oh, I can call if I want to spend high costs roaming, but that's surely not the wisest thing.  And the sheer distance is something that I always worry about.  If something happened, it would take me half a day to get back, as opposed to good old domestic travel, where I can be back in a matter of hours no matter where I am.

Now, I've been sick for a couple of days.  My worst day was Wednesday night and Thursday.  My mom, well aware of how I treat travel, asked if it was nerves.  I didn't think so, and I don't think so.  The Wednesday before a Saturday flight is too early, even for a trip this far and this long.  In my head, the distance between Wednesday and Saturday is long enough to block off as "never going to get here."  I'm usually a "get sick the night before and the day of" type person.

I just don't think an already-weakened stomach is very conducive to my 9-year-old brain's worries.

Will I be fine?  Despite all the Taken references I've heard the last few weeks, I'll probably be fine.  I'm traveling with people that know the land and know the language.  Mostly everything on the trip was carefully planned with safety in mind, insured by people in their 20s that can afford to play for such things.

Will my people be fine?  I imagine so.  I have to trust that God and angels can take care of people while I'm gone (and I make that prayer before travel just in case).  And as I've grown, I've come to realize that accidents can happen no matter where I am, and that I couldn't stop the inevitability way back when anyway.

But it's a strange feeling to look forward to a trip but also look forward to being back home.  Instead of looking forward to seeing Paris, I spent last night thinking about the things I'm going to miss about home.  And thinking about how short the trip will actually be and how soon I'll be home,  the exact opposite of most travelers' thoughts.

I even started to wonder why I was going on the trip at all.  The idea of two weeks at home started to fill my head with thoughts that I'd be super-relaxed when I was done.  The fact that I'd spent all this money on a trip when I'm trying to start a business (even though I paid for one before I even thought up the other) popped into my mind, and I castigated myself for being so irresponsible.  I started wondering what kind of love affair I ever thought I'd have with France or Germany or Switzerland that I'd even want to go on this trip.

It's all my 9-year-old brain, now armed with 27-year-old wisdom, trying to make last-minute attacks on the trip so I won't go.  Of course it's better to go than not to go.  It's just something I have to realize on my own because I typically depend on that "worry center" to keep myself and my loved ones safe.  Ignoring it is something I just don't do very often.

This trip is going to be very important to me.  Besides seeing Paris and Germany and Switzerland for the first time, it's happening at a very interesting time.  Immediately after I get back, I'm going to get the first real look at the web site I'm creating.  What happens on that front is anyone's guess.  It could crap out, and it could make me a millionaire.  If it goes really well, it could be a billion-dollar idea.

The site could change everything for the better.  And, if so, this trip is going to be the final rest I get before this thing goes full speed ahead.  Money is coming together.  Networking is coming together.  Stuff is getting built.  And it might be a while until I have a chance to do something like this again.

It's why I'm going to buy a notebook and write down any and all thoughts I might have on this trip.  I feel like I'm on the precipice of something big, and I'd like to record everything.  Even if the precipice is just big disappointment in my web site failing, it's still a monumental thing that I'm doing.  And I'll be doing all of this thinking on a continent full of things thousands of years older than the things we have here.  Seeing stuff that most people only see on TV.

I need to keep my head straight to enjoy this trip, believe it or not.  And I think the journal can make that possible.

So, for the next two weeks, hold things down for me.  I'll be back soon, but hopefully not too soon.