Who am I? Last year, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror a great number of times, and asked that of the pale-faced, brunette staring back at me. That shy little brunette never answered. Yet her smile seemed to get cheekier, a little slyer each time I asked the question. The glint in her eye as she looked back at me seemed to have a little hint of a sparkle. I simply scratched my head, pulled my hair back in a pony-tail and walked back out of that bathroom.
In the distance, looming, is the Big One. The big ONE ZERO. Ten years. Ten years married. Ten years happily ever after. There has been a chaos of voices in my head. Much like the Queen Victoria Market, late in the afternoon on a Saturday, as the stall holders scramble to clear their remaining fruit and vegetables for the day. Prices being bellowed out into the air: “Artichokes, four for one dollar”. Children laughing. Old ladies haggling. That chaos has been going on in my head, every time I ask myself how we are going to celebrate this milestone.
The chaos sounds a little like this;
“It’s a milestone, we should celebrate!” “Is it a milestone, do we need to celebrate?”
“Should we go on a trip?” “Can we afford a trip?”
“I want another diamond ring!” “Do I need another ring?”
“What about the kids?”
I made the chaos worse by entertaining some of my ideas online. Searching for travel deals to Bora Bora, looking for romantic escapes to Daylesford. Slowly, the ideas were all swirling up and a cyclone was on the horizon.
One Monday of no particular importance, a clear, confident voice spoke inside my head. The voice was strong and resonated throughout me. “Stop looking, stop the torment, something good will come.” Strangely, I felt a sense of calm, of peace, and I stopped looking. That night, I told hubby about my resolve. He laughed at me a little, smiled and agreed with that voice “yes, something good will come.”
Two days later I woke up to another travel deal email: Bora Bora on sale for a fraction of the price. I quickly forwarded the email to hubby, while I juggled kindy drop-offs, speech pathology appointments and a coffee with one of my cousins. Hubby researched the deal only to find that there were no flights included. Disappointment. I thought this was the “something good.”
Later that afternoon, I received a message from my cousin: ‘Jetstar have a sale to Hawaii, check it out’. I had forty-five minutes before I started work, so I jumped online. My anxiety grew. In front of me were cheap flights to Hawaii. Very cheap flights. I typed our anniversary dates into the search engine. My heart skipped a beat – the sale fares were valid for our dates! Like a mad woman, I rang hubby. He didn’t answer. I kept ringing him, barraging him with missed calls. The fares were selling out super fast. I didn’t know what to do.
I imagined landing in Hawaii: with the welcome at the airport, the floral lei’s, the sunshine, the atmosphere, the shopping! I imagined our twentieth anniversary, and how much older we would be going to Hawaii in another ten years. This was my “something good.”
I stared at the screen. Cursor blinking. Finally, hubby called back. I don’t even remember what I said. Something about Hawaii and fares being cheap. Afterwards, he told me that I made no sense whatsoever when he spoke to me.
Click! Two return flights to Hawaii, for half the price of the normal fare.
Two tickets. Not four. Just TWO.
I walked into my bathroom. Rested my hands on the sink and stared into the mirror. Who are you again?
Have you made an impulsive decision? Do you celebrate anniversaries?
