How I’m Living My Dreams

I’ve been pretty quiet and limited in my IG posts and stories again. But this time for good reason.

I’m in London. Yes! I’M IN LONDON, FRIEND!

As a young girl I remember hearing bagpipes and the feelings that washed over me made my heart swell and tears come to my eyes. Every. Time. I yearned and felt pulled to “go home” to the land of bagpipes, always feeling that tug when I heard the bagpipes.

I remember the first time I heard an English (British) accent my heart again swelled and I felt longings to go to the land from where this beautiful accent comes.

Fast forward to my teen years. I learned I had a rich Scottish and English ancestry. But I still didn’t understand why I felt so strongly drawn to my mother countries.

I grew up in poverty. Though I longed to travel foreign I knew it wasn’t ever an option – even when I had the opportunity to play with my orchestra (Utah Valley Youth Symphony) at Buckingham palace I couldn’t afford it.

As I became an adult many people said to get all my foreign travel in while young and childless because I wouldn’t be able to do it with kids. After I was married and learned of my husband’s intense feelings against foreign travel my hopes and dreams of “going home” to my mother countries were significantly dampened.

I continued my university studies and had my daughter. That’s when I gave up entirely on my dreams. I felt I had to sacrifice me and my dreams for my family. I felt destined to unfulfilled dreams. Always found wanting and yearning.

Fast forward to this last Christmas. The Thursday before Christmas my husband came home from work. He wasn’t talkative. He paced. He was quiet at the table. Even a little, shall I say, tense or stiff or…it just felt like he was holding back. I started mentally and emotionally braving myself for whatever was coming that he was stuffing.

He finished his dinner, stretched his legs out straight in front of him, leaned back in his chair, and rested his clasped hands in his lap. He stayed quiet and gazing down at his toes under the table. It looked like he was checking out for the evening already – must’ve been a really hard day at work…

There was a quiet lull in conversation. I went to take a bite of dinner. Mid bite my husband furrowed his brows and said, “My boss wants me to go to London very soon. Will you come with me?”

By the time my husband got to the point of asking if I would accompany him, my fork had made it to my mouth and I had sufficiently chewed my food and was preparing to swallow. I couldn’t swallow. There was this HUGE lump in my throat. I was overcome with feelings and memories rushing through me. Of course! What a beautiful opportunity to go to London – with my family!

We got through Christmas, then there was a mad rush to gather all our travel documents. We didn’t know exactly when we were going to be leaving. We only knew we could leave anytime between the end of January and June – with only 2 weeks notice.

We ended up leaving the US on Valentine’s Day. Everything went so ridiculously smooth. Even UK customs didn’t have an agent present for us to submit our claims to!

We wandered around Hyde Park for a few hours with our luggage waiting to check into our flat. It was a gorgeous day. The parokeets, ducks, geese, and swans ate right out of our hands. They were unbelievably social.

I’ve learned that