Planning for Florida

Here's the thing about deciding to travel. The need can hit you at any moment; and all of a sudden you've got this itch, and whenever you're driving to work this thought lingers in your mind. "I could leave right now," you think, "I could leave now and when I come back I'll be someone new..." Please don't follow this urge. As incredibly tempting as it is, please set a plan and wait until you have the money.

For me, this itch is for Florida. Everyone I tell this to gets a look on their face and asks, "Why there?" I typically shrug and tell them that I'm gonna meet my sister there and we're going to take tequila shots on the beach. They don't need to know that I'm going to go celebrate the birthday she's never going to reach.

So I need to get there by May 23. I'm hoping to stay until my birthday on June 1. When I first decided to do this, I thought there would be no need for me to plan. I could busk and make spare change with my blogging, but let's be real here. That's not gonna cover the costs of gas, food, camping, showers, laundry, etc. Whims are beautiful, but they are not enough.

Calculating the cost of my whim is overwhelming. It's too much for a person who works minimum wage and can barely afford everyday life, but I have a will so there's a way.

Then there are routes. Where do I want to stop? Are there places I want to go? How long will it take to reach the beach? There's a lot more to this than I thought there would be, and I'm wondering how my parents ever managed it with four kids when I can barely handle it for myself. Either way, I take a deep breath.

The silly purchase is the roadmap. I hung it on my wall and put pins in the cities I wanted to see. There aren’t many, and I can visit some on the way home. From here I can calculate that it will take me six days to get to my destination, and I’d love to arrive a day early. Gas costs will be awful, but I can save for that.

I would like to swim with manatees. It was something my sister would talk about constantly. So on her birthday I would like to swim with them and just feel like she is there with me. This will be an extra 60 to 70 dollars on top of all the other costs for this trip. I don’t care. I’ll save for it. Swim with the manatees, drink tequila on the beach, and sleep beneath the stars. If my other siblings want to join me, they can, but they certainly can’t stop me.

This trip isn’t one of pleasure and beauty, but in a way it is. It’s a cathartic journey to try to see the world through her eyes, and to say goodbye. Her funeral service was a mess for me. I was too numb, I wasn’t able to process everything. But soon I’ll be blasting our favorite songs and headed for something that she wanted. I’ll be sitting where she would’ve sat and then I’ll let it all out. I’ll celebrate her in a way that she would’ve loved, and I’ll dance with her spirit on the beach while the sun sets behind us. Hell, I might even wear a dress for it.

The thought of costs and planning is stressful. I worry that I won’t be able to do it and take this journey. But either way, I can do it. I’ll figure it out. The pain will be worth it, just to take her where she wanted to go. For one last chance to connect and say goodbye.