Bittersweet Uncertainty

Dearest Rachel –

As recently as a couple of days ago, I pretty much had an outline for the letter I was going to write you this morning. Most of it, you might imagine, would have to do with the fact that this was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime – multiple lifetimes, in fact. Since you had been to Japan as a girl of sixteen (as part of your own deferred ‘trip of a lifetime’ as planned by your parents as a possible consolation prize for not being able to conceive you back in 1970), and I had been there in college (as part of a class on Asian business, which saw us in a number of ‘tiger economy’ countries, including a pre-Tiananmen PRC), we had determined that we should travel there again as a family, to see each other’s reactions, as well as Daniel’s, to the place as it now was.

We were aware that we would be visiting a very different Japan, to be sure; words like ‘otaku’ and ‘weaboo’ hadn’t yet found their way into the pop cultural lexicon on the side of the pond. So we knew that this would be every bit as much of an experience for each of us (and each other) as it would be for Daniel. But that was part of the thrill of it; the fact that we would be experiencing an entirely different country than the one we so briefly saw would make it interesting for each of us (to say nothing of seeing each other’s reactions, and recounting our own old stories).

We just needed to sit tight until this whole Covid thing blew over. So we waited.

And, as things began to open up, we found ourselves doing other things that… well, you know how the story ended. We would never be able to make it to Japan as an entire family after all. So there was already a bittersweet note to this trip we were about to embark on this evening.

But then, just yesterday, things changed, dramatically, and a second note of bittersweetness came to the fore: the possibility – indeed, the likelihood – that we wouldn’t be able to go at all. As I explained yesterday, we just discovered that the rules have been changed, and Daniel’s status has unvaccinated might yet preclude his being able to board the ship. When I was writing you the letter, it seemed like a given thing that we would have to cancel.

And this is why, whenever people ask me if I’m excited about my upcoming travels, I have to shrug, and say “no, not really.” I can’t afford to be, because I always get this nagging side that things could go sideways. I wasn’t always like this – although I never was as much into long-term planning like my Dad (and in fairness to him, he had to wrangle seven, and eventually nine, family members in any given trip, so the logistics were more complicated for him, necessitating considerably more advance planning) – but in the world we’re stuck (pardon the pun) living in, that’s how it goes more often than not. Some (including you) would consider me pessimistic; I consider it realistic.

But then… a glimmer of hope. While I really don’t remember who Daniel’s general practitioner is (and I can’t check with you, naturally), we did speak to Lars, and, after interviewing Daniel about his history with medication and other allergens (such as his bad reaction to Zoloft, and having to go to the ER when he was exposed to poison ivy on the island) as well as his family medical history (since both your parents passed away from the strokes, there’s a clear pattern of blood clotting – although the word he used was something I’ve never seen before – hypercoagulation or some such), he actually agreed that there was plenty of medical justification to request a waiver from having to take the vaccine, and provided a letter to that effect, which we forwarded on to our agent, who has sent it along to the cruise line.

So now… we wait. And prepare ourselves. The thing is, if it doesn’t work, we have all the time in the world to unpack; but if we’re good to go, we have to be ready at vitually a moment’s notice. So at this point, we have to pretend that everything is going according to plan.

But is that really the plan? I find myself torn at this point as to whether this is what I really want. I tell Daniel that this is ‘the trip of a lifetime,’ but if it falls through, we can wait a bit until the rules relax, and try again later. To be sure, that’s the attitude we took toward the idea, and that didn’t end up panning out, but what other option is there? Besides, this can’t go on like this forever; sooner or later, even those in control will come to terms with the idea that the pandemic is over (indeed, one particular leader has been quoted as saying those exact words on camera late last year; whether he remembers having said them is another question entirely) and modify the rules accordingly. But will we get to see all the places we were going to? I rather doubt it.

When plans collapse – or when they look like they’re going to – we often go to God, pleading our case, and asking if He couldn’t see His way clear to arrange things the way we would like them. When I do that about this, I find myself questioning how it is I actually want this to turn out. Sure, after all this time, I’d like things to go as arranged, but (assuming I can get my money back, for the most part) if it were to be cancelled, would it really be all that awful? I honestly don’t know at this point.

All I find myself asking at the moment is that, whatever happens, I can find peace. This uncertainty is almost the worst part about it all. Oh, it would be better once I find myself on the ship; at that point, I can relax (assuming I don’t have to concern myself overmuch with being suitably attired around the common areas). But if word comes down that we won’t be allowed, I think I can order the cancellation process be initiated and still be at ease with it. I may look silly showing up at church or wherever, and having to deal with questions like “Aren’t you two supposed to be in Japan?” but that’s how the story would go. People will understand.

And, God willing, there will be another chance.

Anyway, keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.

P.S. I just got the call, honey. Lars’ note has been accepted; for the moment, we’re good to go (although now the question is about the fact that I’ve only had two shots and no boosters. I don’t know where that’s going to lead). I’ll keep you posted as to how things go from here.