Welcome to Holland

There's this short essay called Welcome To Holland written by the mother of a child with Down Syndrome as an attempt to describe what it's like to have her expectations of motherhood change after learning she'd be raising a disabled kid. She likens the experience to planning a trip to Italy, but unexpectedly finding herself in Holland instead. Despite missing the experience of Italy, she learns that Holland is a pretty nice place too. Some love the essay. Some hate it. I don't have any real feelings about it and, having raised kids with disabilities, it wasn't really ever something that resonated with me. But I've been thinking about this analogy for nine days, really digging in to its premise. Because the literal interpretation of Welcome To Holland has been my reality. 

On the day of embarkation for our Alaska cruise, George was still not feeling well. He had been struggling since arriving in Vancouver but was able to get himself together and board the Queen Elizabeth 2. For an hour. Shortly after boarding the ship, George had a real break down, right in the middle of the ship, where all of the fancy older folks were milling about, eager to begin their journey. I'm not going to write about the details of what happened becasue that's George's story and not mine to tell. But the result of his upset was a quick evacuation from the ship, back to Vancouver. We had a couple of tough days before I was able to arrange a flight back to Minneapolis for him, and he is there, safe and supported, now. 

I could have gone home, however there's a whole second half of this vacation that's post-cruise, and I didnt' want to miss it. I could also have tried to rejoin the cruise. But after the traumatic hour on the ship, I just didn't want to face it again. So instead, I booked a hotel room for 9 days in the suburbs of Vancouver (it's so expensive here!). Nine days. I was surprised and delighted at my good fortune (about time) when I checked in by being upgraded to a suite. So, what did I do with all of this time? Nothing at all. Well, nothing productive at all. I have been lazing around watching bad TV, reading, taking loooonnnggg baths, putting together a 3000 piece puzzle, ordering from DoorDash, and playing Wingspan on my computer. And I discovered that this solitude, with zero expectations of me, zero places to go, and zero people to consider, was pretty darn good. When does a person ever get that chance, to completely disconnect from life? It was a balm for me. It was my Holland. 

Tomorrow I rejoin Mom and Reagan (who leaves for home the following day) for part two of our epic 2023 trip. I can't say I'm happy that I was in Holland instead of Alaska, but it was still good, and probably more needed for me than an exciting adventure. So I'm good. George is safe. And that's how it goes sometimes. For those who read my first blog for this trip, many, many days ago, the answer is, obviously, No. No, George should not have come.