When my mom was a kid, her family went on one vacation each year, to the same old cabin on a lake in Minnesota. As much fun as she had with her family on the trips, she always had that itch to go somewhere new. So, she promised herself that when she grew up and had a family of her own, she’d take them to new places each year.
She has certainly followed through on her promise, and I’m extremely grateful for that.
I actually give my mom a lot of credit for my own wanderlust, because I think I have it in the best way. It’s not merely a yearning to travel, but reminiscence on places I’ve been, and an increasing desire for adventure.
It’s a broadening of the mind.
I don’t think I could ever choose a favorite place or a favorite trip. We’ve been to some incredible places, and (especially since the “dead vacuum in the elevator” incident in our San Diego hotel) it seems like each vacation is better than the last.
Since I’ve just returned from the most recent “Carlson-Schneider Family Vacation,” I guess I’m just feeling a bit sentimental. I’m excited to be back in my reality, but also feeling very thankful for my mom and for having the means to travel.
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It’s far more fun to go places together.