...she replied as my father brought up the idea of going to England. We were sitting down for lunch at Giorgio's (Dad's favorite restaurant) mulling over some lukewarm bread and butter. "It was something I wanted to do with Pop years ago but I've just lost interest." My heart sank when I heard those words. For as long as I could remember my grandmother has wanted to visit England. For years she pored through Dick Francis novels, transporting herself to the lush green landscapes and stone buildings, to the British racecourses and extravagant affairs, and dreamed of seeing them with her own eyes. She has done a fair amount of traveling through the states in her life, but with the exception of a couple brief trips to Tijuana and Vancouver, she had never left North America.
I decided when I was very young that I would take my grandmother to England someday. Growing up, the prospect of traveling with her was challenging, as she had to take care of my grandfather and could not be away for very long. When my grandfather passed away, the opportunity to take a trip out of the country presented itself. My grandmother still worked with a private school, but her hours were flexible. Incidentally her position with the school was discontinued, forcing her and a few others to retire. I managed to accumulate enough airline miles last year to cover a round trip ticket to the UK, and had enough money coming in to justify the trip.
It seemed however that the opportunity had passed.
Our food came and I silently worked my way through the plate of chicken and steamed vegetables in front of me. My head was down, eyes rarely leaving the food, as the conversation moved on. My grandmother practically raised me- I knew how she was when her mind was made up. She has a difficult time letting people do things for her, and generally doesn't want to be the the center of attention. I wasn't going to press the issue any further. She could tell something was wrong, and shortly after my Dad got up to use the restroom she asked me what was the matter.
I explained my feelings, how this was something I have wanted to do for her since I was young, how the opportunity was at hand and I had the miles for her ticket, that we had people lined up to feed the cat and take care of the turtle and keep an eye on the house. I told her how crushing it was to hear that she no longer had any interest in seeing the place she had dreamed about for so long.
Her expression changed in a way only possible as a result of an unhappy grandchild. "Well how long are you thinking?" she asked. "Would we have to rent a car?" I lit up. I had already freed up my calendar between May and June, and went through the possible dates with her. She changed her mind.
I was ecstatic.