Thursday, April 25, 2013

My Preparation was Packing

Back in February, in preparation for my upcoming trip to Boston, my mother-in-law sent me home one day laden with history books. One of the books was a simple guide book, and I found myself looking through it frequently. Although I must admit I had a tendency to linger a little too long on the "shopping and dining" sections more than the history stuff.

By the time you read this, I will be flying across the skies with my mother-in-law and sister-in-law. Both very intelligent women with an emphasis on history, art, and nearly everything I don't have an interest in (or knowledge of!).

Back to my history studies.

One of the history books sat by my bed for weeks. Each night I would get a nagging feeling as I looked at it sitting there, but I always chose to read a different book from my nightstand. A month or so ago, Mike and I were visiting with some friends and I told them about my need to study up on Boston history. They looked at me like I was crazy, and one of them quipped, "Isn't that why you are going?"

A light bulb went on. Yes, I decided. I'm going to Boston to learn about it, not the other way around.

Except those books, especially the one of my nightstand continued to nag at me.

On the handful of nights when I did actually pick it up to read it, it was late, I was tired, and it was painful for me to try to understand. I'd last about 3-5 minutes maximum. (I'm a lot of things, but intelligent and intellectually stimulating is not one of them.)

Two weeks ago, I was feeling stretched too thin. I had too many demands on my time and I felt taxed beyond the realm of my normal endurance. As I climbed into bed, the thick history book caught my eye and the nightly nag began to creep into my thoughts.  In a sudden moment of spontaneous empowerment I picked it up and removed it from my nightstand. Immediately I felt a weight lift from me. I think I had been figuratively carrying that darn book (and the other one almost twice its size) on my shoulders since February.

I haven't touched either of them since.

Despite it being all good and well that I had that moment of personal empowerment (or resignation), the fact still remains that I am traveling to Boston with two intelligent women who know their US history inside and out, and all I know about Boston is that there was some sort of tea party there once.

And it wasn't the kind of tea party I read anything about under the "shopping and dining" section of the one "Boston book" I actually did spend a decent amount of time looking at.

Here's to five days of history lessons.
Wish me luck...


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