Westward, Ho

Nope, I'm not grammatically inept. I inserted the extra comma in my title because I know that Ammon would get a kick out of it. 'Nuff said.

I'm traveling to Utah in September. I was talking to a friend of mine on the phone, and we started talking about how much I'd like to come visit. Out of the blue, she said "If you come visit, I'll give you $100". Of course, this statements causes my wheels to start spinning, and before long I was sitting in front of the computer researching dates and airfare. I quickly decided that the extra cost wasn't feasible, but after spending the bulk of the evening sitting around trying to work my way around being able to make this trip, I decided to call my Dad. (Wow, that is quite the run on sentence!) After I explained the situation to my Mom, I timidly asked if they would be willing to contribute to the 'bring Victoria and Brooklyn to Utah fund'. My Mom assured me that of course they could, and I proceeded to spend most of the next day toying with different dates, and routes. After several more hours of thinking, I once again decided that even with the help of my friend and family, I still couldn't justify the expense. I put in one last call to my parents, to inform them that I wouldn't be coming out after all. My Dad answered the phone, and when I broke the news, he upped the ante. He offered enough money to more than cover my airfare, and suddenly all doubts were brushed aside. I quickly found dates that would work for everybody, and made child care arrangements for the kids. Brooklyn and I will be flying out on Thursday, September 4th and leaving Jeremy and Kadon here in the capable hands of their grandparents. I'm simultaneously looking forward to and feeling apprehensive about this trip. So much of my life with Ammon is wrapped up in Utah. The apartment where he proposed to me, the park where we got married, the town we lived in before we moved to Ohio. All these sights--I fear that they will engulf me when I drive into the valley and not relinquish their grip on me until I drive back out. I know that I will have to make this trip at some point, and I suppose it is better to make it without the watchful eyes of my two impressionable young boys on me. I'm sure in reality it will end up being bittersweet. I'm sure that I will be grateful for familiar sights, but long for the presence of my husband where I am so used to seeing him. I suppose time will tell what this trip will hold. I can only pray that the good memories outweigh the painful ones.