I'm committed

 

The red duffle is packed, a color copy of my Brazil visa in hand

my husband embraces me three times, promising that I will have a wonderful time

I admit to tearing up inside wondering if this is what I want to be doing

and I walk away, into the gaping terminal, asking directions to the Delta counter

because it has moved, so much construction, chaos, and then navigating 

so many small problems that usually Stephen attends to, no TSA Pre on my ticket,

long lines, and then I read a poem about facing uncertainty, recognizing 

the restless at home (yes, while loving it), knowing it normal to be fearful 

but seeing that I am at that door to new discovery and it's important to walk

through that gaping terminal door, and face all the things I am afraid of.

I will gain courage in this, as I write this waiting at JFK for the 9.5 hour 

flight to São Paulo and I hear the others speaking Portuguese and I know 

that this is the right thing to do.

Here I go.