One of my most treasured memories is of a trip that I went on with my mother a couple of years after my marriage. Mother-daughter, wife-wife. The trip was one of those ten-day Europe trips organised by a renowned travel agency.
It started from Rome and a mini disaster struck almost as soon as we checked-in. The dinner was a few hours away, so our tour guide suggested we garb a snack from a nearby restaurant. I told Ma to rest. When I got back, she wouldn’t open the door. I thought perhaps she had dozed off and went to the next room that belonged to a member of the group and called the room phone. No response. After a couple of tries I was worried. Then I thought I heard her calling out my name. I looked around and spotted that there was actually a balcony attached to the big French windows. Apparently, she had stepped out to take in the scenery and closed the door to avoid any insects going in, but the door locked, leaving her stranded outside.
The trip progressed with us enjoying the sights, her waking up early to get ready so that I could sleep, me lugging the heavier luggage. We were also the envy of the group as we enjoyed fret-free shopping, the other ladies were constantly hounded by their husbands. During the long bus rides, we would chat or sit in silence often holding hands and eating chips.
It was a memorable trip and also gave me an insight into the woman she was and not just the mother I knew. I have promised my daughter that we will take such a trip soon. I believe every mother-daughter should atleast once in a lifetime go on such a trip.