We’re not big on long vacations. We haven’t flown as a family in 10 years, and since that time our longest vacation was probably a four or five day weekend. Our heart is at home, and that’s where we are happiest as a family. Vacations for us are a few days in the mountains, or a few days on the beach, or a few days at Disney.
But my eldest daughter will be 16 this year. A rising sophomore. One day it hit me the way mortality hits you when you first go on heart medication: I had three more summers left with her in the home. Three more chances as a complete family for those bigger vacations we always said we would do “sometime”. Now I’m not talking the standard fare like Caribbean cruises or trips to Hawaii. I’m talking about the stuff I want to share with my kids that will hurt if I never embrace the opportunity. I’m talking about showing them where I grew up, showing them where we got married. I realized how important it was to me to share parts of ourselves, Cheryl and I that is, with our kids. Those parts of ourselves they’ve only known through anecdotes and yellowing pictures.
So the Ludlams descended on Boston. It was easily our best vacation ever.