It is hard to believe I was on a flight bound for Phoenix a few days ago. It is harder to believe I was only in Phoenix for 66 hours and now find myself back in the Canadian Rockies. I can honestly say I would do it again in a heartbeat.
What matters is that going to Arizona now is akin to going home for the weekend as I would often do when I was in University. Granted in University, “going home” meant a short 3 hour drive; now it is a 3 hour flight but somehow it doesn’t feel much different.
I still spend the weekend with my parents feeling like I really am “home” even though it is their vacation property, not their primary residence. I have a room to myself, have no problem rummaging through the fridge in search of food and know where to find anything I need. All the comforts of home exist and for a weekend I feel like the kid, not a responsible Mom, wife and career woman. For 66 hours, I was home feeling carefree.
I am fortunate to be able to escape for a weekend and although many have said I am nuts to go all that way for 3 days, I say who had more fun? I enjoyed laying in the pool without a care for a few days and I feel recharged. The best part is I did it to surprise my Dad for his birthday.
Who wouldn’t do it again when after I returned home, I received an email from him that said “Oh by the way it’s my birthday again this coming weekend… just thought I’d let you know.” Don’t tempt me Dad.