My husband and I decided to go to Europe this summer. I found great deals in January/February and I started planning the details. We dreamed of walking through the Jardin du Plantes in Paris just like we did 2 years ago. I found out I was pregnant with our third child in Paris. It has a special place in our hearts.
And then my husband died.
I was left with the decision (amongst many other decisions I had to make) about whether or not to still go with three kids under the age of 6 and no husband. There were logistical concerns, as well as matters of the heart. Could I bear to go to the City of Love without my love?
My hand was forced when the airline reiterated that their “no cancellation” policy indeed apply to even widows with three kids under the age of 6.
So I went.
And we survived. To be honest, there is something nice about getting away from “real life” for a mental break. I’m glad we went, even though my husband was frequently on my mind.
Now, back to reality. There’s a mountain of laundry to tackle, paperwork to do, and children to raise.