A Trip to Prague...with my Mom

    

“Prague never lets you go. That dear little mother has claws.”

     So wrote Franz Kafka, one of the Czech Republic’s most well-known writers.

     Prague is indeed an enchanting, fairytale city, a city of castles, ancient churches, cobblestone streets and the beautifully ornate, Charles Bridge. Day and I were fortunate enough to go to Prague this past April, and we loved it. I cannot speak for Day, but for me, this was one of my favorite trips.

     We spent much of our time with Jaroslav, my second cousin, and his wife Helena. They were gracious hosts, and he was a most excellent tour guide. There is much to see in Prague, years and years of history, and the beauty is breathtaking. Food in Prague was fantastic, and sitting in a local pub, enjoying Pilzner beer with friendly locals, was surly an event. I enjoyed my trip to Prague, with my wife, with my best friend. We had fun, and I enjoyed her, and her company, I truly like my wife, and I look forward to going back with her again.

     I will in fact be going back to Prague in a few short weeks, but without Day, instead with my mother. Yes, I am going on vacation to Prague, with Mom.

     I want to write, to share and be honest with myself and those of you who may read this, one of whom may be my mother. So I must muster all of my tact, humor, and dare I say, my award winning charm, to find the perfect words to describe my trepidation.

     Traveling in itself can be stressful. Traveling with friends, which Day and I do often, has a whole new set of challenges, and traveling with family is insane! My Mom does not travel often, or far. The last time she was on a plane was at least 15 years ago when we went to Ireland. Day and I, my mom, sister and her husband went to Ireland and Scotland for three weeks, together! I am glad we did it, we had a great time, but what the hell was I thinking? That is a lot of family and a lot of time together, and as you can see, my sister is a smuck...

My sister, beating me up in Ireland

     Anyhow, I am sure my mom is nervous. This is an educated guess given the many phone calls and questions about packing, what time are we leaving, when and how are we getting to the airport, and on and on. The endless questions are fine, I realize she is nervous, but I worry about travel day. Travel day can be stressful and I know she will be nervous. I am not the most patient of people, but the older I get, the more patient I get. So I am hopeful on travel day, I will be a good son.

     A good son, I am not sure what that is, or if I have been one. I am sure I don't spend as time with her as she might like, she calls often, and I don't always pick up. When we to see each other or speak on the phone we struggle to have a meaningful conversation, so we talk about the weather. I am sure I don't say it often enough, but I love my family and my mother. Not only do I love my mother, but I admire and respect her.

     I have always worked hard all my life. I have always had a job, and always did what needed to be done, without complaint. I recently posted a line from a book, A Walk in the Woods, which seems a perfect quote for here:

     "The hardest part, is the discovery there is always more hill, and still we stagger on. What else can we do?"

     I am not saying this to brag but, I believe I am tough, I work hard, I do not complain, and nothing keeps me down to long, I always get back up. I did not get any of that from my father. I would like to say that again, I did not get any of that from my father. The strongest people I know, are women.

     A friend, who over the last few years has been faced with multiple challenges, and from a distance I have watched her, in awe, admired her strength and courage as she tackled them head on. There are other friends, mine and Day's very best friend, who is one of the smartest people I know, just ask her. And one crazy friend, who on her own, owns three homes and travels the world, she is fearless.

     My wife, who for the last 18 or so years, has put up with me and my crap. Who has been my partner, and together we have weathered many storms in life and our relationship. We fight, we argue and still, we love one another and plan an eternity together. She is my rock. Strength I am sure Day got from her mom, another strong, independent woman. FYI, strong independent Italian women come with challenges, many challenges, bossy comes to mind. The Decou and Whitehead women are some of the finest, so they boss us around, we smile, and love them for it.

     And my Mom, I don't know where she got her strength from, I have no idea what kept her going all those years. Nothing stopped her from doing what needed to be done. Life was not easy for her. There was always more hill, and still she staggered on. What else could she do. I am the person I am today because of my Mother. It's not until recently that I have come to that conclusion, but yes, my strength comes from my mother, and someday, I will thank her for that. For now, in a few short weeks we will travel to Prague, together.

     Jaroslav came to the United States  in 1978 for work. At that time the Czech Republic was Czechoslovakia, a communist country, so Helena was not allowed to come with him. Our family met him just once, thirty-eight years ago. Mom has kept in touch with him ever since, by snail mail. In a few short weeks she will once again be reunited with Jaroslav, and finally, finally get to meet Helena, a most wonderful woman.

     So I am excited. I am excited to go to Prague once again. I am always excited to go on vacation. I am excited to have this chance to be a "good son." Most of all, I am excited for Jaroslav, Helena and my Mom. Imagine if you can, the moment when the three of them will meet once again, after thirty-eight years.

     In a few short months I will be turning fifty, and I have come to the realization that I have lived more years, than years I have left to live. It is only natural then, to ask yourself, what contributions have I made, what have I done to make this a better world and whose lives have I touched? If not for Day and I going to Prague months ago, to meet a couple we didn't know, this trip would not be happening. And in a few short weeks I am hopeful, Day and I, no matter how small our roll, have made three people very, very happy. I am excited to be a part of that moment.