Bucket Lists

After many years of squinting and proclaiming loudly to anyone who would listen "I can't see." My parents finally took me to the eye doctor. The verdict? "Yep. She needs glasses."

I didn't really want glasses. They were bulky and heavy and cumbersome. I didn't want them. No way. Nuh-uh. Wasn't going to wear them. You can't make me. I didn't want to so I didn't. Vanity prevailed and the world remained blurry.

In my eyes the world consisted of swatches of color. I didn't really focus on objects because I couldn't see with precision. Because I couldn't see objects, color reigned and my fascination with color and textures began.

Since my memory EVER came to be, I have longed to travel to Europe and see the art that resides there. Specifically, the Sistine Chapel weighed in extremely high on the you-have-GOT-to-see-the-beauty list. The colors had to be amazing. Right? The artists took bits of horsetails and managed to paint wondrous works of art that continue to inspire.

When I was diagnosed with this stupid, absolutely useless and ever-so-much-an-inconvenience brain disease, Dawn decided that I needed to develop a bucket list. I had two travel events on my list. New York and Europe. That's it.

Christmas came and one item was granted. I got to see New York. I love people and smells and colors and textures. Oh. And cheesecake. I LOVE cheesecake. What better place to experience all that than New York City? Loved it. I mean beyond-a-shadow-of-doubt LOVED IT!

The beginning of 2016 rolled around. Goose and Daulton informed me that they were going to Europe this year. Again. They went a couple of years ago and I was tinged a tad bit with envy. However, I was happy for them and spent hours with Goose looking at pictures post-visit to the land of my dreams. When they told me they were going yet again? I was GREEN with envy. Jealous isn't strong enough to tell you how I felt. To add insult to injury? Shelby was going. THEY would get to see the art. THEY would get to walk the cobblestones of Rome. THEY would get to see Michelangelo and Raphael and Rembrandt and Van Gogh and the Sistine Chapel and ALL of the art that I yearned to see. Yep. Jealous. Jealous. JEALOUS. That was me.

The kids came to me one day and told me they wanted to take me with them. What? Really? Me? Yep. I was going.

I didn't tell too many people that I was going. Not because I'm an ungrateful brat, simply because I kept waiting to hear the hammer fall with the words "We changed our minds, we aren't going." Daulton booked airline tickets. I still didn't believe. Daulton reserved hotels. Nope. STILL didn't believe. Daulton, Shelby and Goose tagged me in links and pictures and Facebook posts. I continued to wait for the hammer to fall.

We left the morning November 28th. I swear to you, I was on the plane and STILL doubting that I was really, truly, no-doubt-about-it heading off on an epic adventure. But I did. I lived it. I walked on cobblestone. I felt Roman pillars with my hands. I saw an entire museum of Van Gogh's work. I reverently viewed Raphael, Rembrandt and more art than my eyes could behold. I wept when I walked into the Sistine Chapel. When the kids were ready to leave the chapel, Goose viewed my tear-filled eyes and led me back in to gaze upon the single most amazing room that I will ever behold.

How do I tell you all that I experienced in the two weeks of wonder? How do I relate the smells and the textures and the people and the food? I have NO idea. I do know that I felt very much like the emoji that is smiling with the eyes shaped like hearts. Yep. That was me. I'm SURE my pupils were heart shaped the entire time.

I walked the streets of Amsterdam. I toured the house where Anne Frank hid from the Nazi regime. I walked through awe inspiring churches, rode on a boat through beautiful canals and my cup runneth over with joy.

That was ONE city.

We hopped onto a train that swept us to Heidelberg, Germany where we rented a car and toured the countryside. NOT before we wandered the Christmas market in old town. I listened to German carolers in the Christmas square. We were able to see the Heidelberg Schloss Castle light up the night and could hardly wait to investigate the still standing monolith the following morning.

We jumped in the car and headed toward Triberg, Germany. I crossed the Reine River and traveled many dirt roads through the Black Forest. I saw castles and vineyards and climbed to the highest waterfall in Germany. I even saw the world's largest cuckoo clock!

All these adventures led us to Lucerne, Switzerland where the most expressive monument of a dying lion was carved into the stone. We strolled along the river and viewed the lights and the people and felt the evening air.

We conquered Mount Pilatus and viewed Switzerland while standing above the clouds. Mr. Easter Rabbit all dressed in orange (down to his sparkly orange hat) became our friend and we listened to pretty-dang-good artists sing cover tunes during the open mic night at a pub.

Our car extravaganza came to an end in Zurich where we flew off to Rome. The kids had saved this event for the end of our journey. The climax to my adventure would indeed be the Sistine Chapel. I had waited 51 years to gaze upon this miraculous craftsmanship. I could feel the build-up of excitement as Rome drew closer to reality.

I had seen pictures of the chapel. I had imagined the beauty and the art and the reverence in that room. I was wrong. I will never find the words big enough or strong enough or flowery enough to describe the wonder I felt as my eyes tried so desperately to drink in all that they viewed.

I heard the roar of the Trevi Fountain and gazed with wonder upon the Roman Coliseum. I walked on paths in the Roman Palatine Hill that were laid as early as 509BC. We wandered from the ruins of Rome to the opulence of St. Peter's Basilica where Shelby was able to see her favorite work of art, the chilling masterpiece of Michelangelo the Pietà.

Rome came to an end and we found ourselves on a train to Venice. Gondola rides through the canal, shopping and some much needed rest overtook the end of our journey. Fog added to the mystery as we were awed by the wondrous beauty of the water and architectural settings. Our gondolier pointed out where Casanova lived as well as Marco Polo's home.

Taylor Swift wrote a song that my heart played over and over throughout my adventure.

"I said remember this moment In the back of my mind..."

I will, you know. I'll remember the smells and the textures and the art and the food and the people and the wonderment of living my dream. Most of all? I'll embed the generosity of this gift and etch the unfailing love of my family deep within my heart. Yep. I'm a lucky girl.