Take a Vacation!

I hate to say it, but until recently, I had forgotten what a vacation feels like. We never took many family vacations when I was a kid, and my main getaway, summer camp, was already in the middle of a much longer break from school, so never felt much like a true "break" from everyday life. Since I've been older, the effort of planning, packing, and paying for trips has often kept me from taking them at all. But this past weekend made me rethink my stance completely.

My uncle is a painter and a teacher, and this weekend, he was honored with a retrospective show at a museum. My mother had been planning to go to the opening for weeks, but I always dismissed it with "I can't miss work." But when she started talking about it last Tuesday, I started to rethink my plans. I was already having a hard week (and it was only Tuesday). Nothing particularly bad happened, it was just one of those weeks: the weather was gray and dreary, work was feeling a little tedious and not particularly exciting, and I just felt a bit down. So I decided to go.

I was immediately excited. My whole week changed, for the better, with a trip to look forward to. I set about convincing my boyfriend to go with me, to see my uncle's house (beautiful!) and spend time with some of my favorite family members. He agreed and things were looking even better. 

As usual, I got a little stressed when the day of the trip actually arrived, even with the return of sunny weather (finally!). I plan ahead, sometimes too much, and my mind was preoccupied all morning at work with last minute things to do. My mother had decided to get sick, but was refusing to miss the weekend unless she had the flu (which she didn't), so I knew that the boyfriend and I would be doing all the driving. She also informed me that she wanted us to drive to her house, changing the plan of her picking us up. (This isn't, and wasn't a big deal, but since it didn't fit into the perfectly organized timetable I had mentally made for myself, it threw me for a stressed-out loop for a few minutes.) But, of course, I got my work done, I packed everything I needed (except deodorant, but I borrowed Mom's), and we got on the road.

View from my bed in the studio

Friday night was great, visiting with family, drinking, and eating a big, Louisiana crawfish dinner. Because of the number of people staying at my uncle's house, my boyfriend, my two cousins, and I slept in my uncle's art studio in the backyard. We loved it; it was the kid's table of sleeping arrangements, and we stayed up late talking and watching videos on our phones just like we did twelve years ago. (Well, twelve years ago it was ghost stories and poker games played with pennies, but the staying up late was the same.)

Saturday was the day I realized that I've been missing out on vacations. We all woke up at our own pace, the studio kids sleeping a little later than all the adults in the real house. We ate breakfast, talking and drinking coffee, and then slowly separated to do our own things. My boyfriend went outside to sit in the sun and do some reading and writing. My aunt and one cousin went for a walk around town, picking up tons of Mardi Gras beads left in the streets. My uncle, the painter, worked on his computer to do last-minute preparation for the show that night, while my other uncle slept on the couch. I showered about noon, then read my book on the (other) couch. My other cousin, still in school, studied upstairs. My sick mother, who kept referring to herself as Typhoid Mary, relaxed in her room. After a while, I went back to the studio to take a nap. This is when I realized that, somehow, my Saturday of doing nothing felt like one of the fullest days I'd had in months. That night, I saw my uncle's work, from over thirty years of painting, celebrated in a huge space with plenty of admiring fans there to witness it. Since we didn't know anyone but my family, my boyfriend and I slipped out to wander the streets and grab a snack and a drink at a bar a couple of blocks away. After the opening, we had another drink with my cousin and some of her friends, then headed to my uncle's house for a small reception. (We missed most of the people, because we went out on our own first, but there was plenty of food and wine left for us!) I went to bed that night, after more talking and YouTubing, full and happy.  

Who wouldn't feel refreshed here?!

My weekend was incredibly refreshing. Even when I wasn't doing anything, I was surrounded by some of my favorite family members, talking, laughing, catching up, reminiscing. So many of my weekends are spent mostly at home, with mostly my boyfriend and sometimes my mom, and it was nice to remember that I've got plenty of friends and family (and people who are both) to spend time with. And yes, the car drive back was tiring, and then I was back to reality and needed to wash clothes and prepare to go back to work. The trip was a break, and now the break was over.

But my weekend was more than a break. It was a renewal. A renewal of relationships, for one thing. I saw family members I hadn't seen in ten years. I got to spend time with my uncle during an important moment honoring his career. My cousin and I hadn't seen each other in months and months, and we are now starting to make plans for another trip to visit my sister. And, as cheesy as I feel saying it, it felt like a renewal of the soul. It was a reminder that the bad times, the tedious work days and gray weather, are not permanent. I was reminded, figuratively and literally, that the sun'll come out tomorrow.

I am so glad I decided to take a vacation. It could not have been better for my mind, heart, and soul, and it wasn't even painful for my wallet. I hope I can remember to relax and plan a vacation every now and then, both to new places and hopefully, back to my uncle's wonderfully inspiring and invigorating home. 

And I hope that every vacation, when I ask someone to take a picture of me before I leave, ends with as fun and as weird a photo shoot as this one did.