When I finish writing this blog entry, I need to go pack. That in itself is not so unusual. With two book tours a year along with coming and going to and from Tucson, packing is hardly a unique experience around here. This time, however, it’s different because we’re heading off on a two-week cruise—Southampton to Stockholm.

The last time we went on a cruise was four years ago. It was a life-changing experience, and not in a good way. We were at SeaTac, checked in and waiting to board our plane when our British Air flight was cancelled. We had planned on an extra day in Copenhagen at the beginning of the cruise, so it didn’t appear that all was lost, but still getting there on time wasn’t easy. While I stood in line for four hours trying to get our flights re-booked, Bill went to retrieve the luggage. Eventually he was able to wrestle it all back upstairs to the ticket counter line, but in the process he re-injured and reactivated a long ago back problem. By the time we finally had our newly booked airline tickets in hand and made it back home, he was in utter agony.

Our flights for the following day were on Delta to Copenhagen by way of Amsterdam. In Amsterdam none of the moving sidewalks were … well … moving. So we walked, from one corner of the airport to the opposite corner of the airport, with another go-through-security-with-fake-knees experience along the way. Bill had brought along a camera bag, but halfway through, he had to give up and hand that over to me because he couldn’t stand to carry it. We barely made it to the gate in time to board our flight. Ditto for the cruise having arrived just before they raised the gangway. And once we were on the ship, we didn’t get off. Getting from our stateroom to the dining room was a major undertaking for Bill, and he made those walks with gray-faced, grim determination, stopping to lean on walls and railings along the way.

But we were there to cruise and cruise we did. We watched the Norwegian fjords pass by outside our stateroom window. We read books. We had fun, but we also valued every moment we had together because we’d suddenly seen how quickly good health could be snatched away from one or the other of us, in just a matter of hours. We had fun but in a somewhat muted kind of way, and all the while we were on the ship, I worried about how the hell we were going to get home. In the end, and over Bill’s strenuous objections, I ordered wheelchairs for him in both London and SeaTac.

Once we arrived home, we became what you would call stationary and pretty much stayed that way until May of last year. This cruise is a reward for our year long journey of walking, exercising, and losing weight. In the process we’ve regained both our health and our mobility.

Along the way, we’ve seen interesting pieces of progress. Last Saturday we walked to a neighbor’s baby shower—down our steep driveway and up theirs. Our iPhones gave us each credit for eight flights of stairs. This week I sent two big bags of clothing off to a consignment store. Some of them were slacks that I had purchased years ago from the Tall Shop before the Tall Shop went out of business. I had hung onto those slacks because I was afraid I’d never again be able to buy clothing that would fit. Sending those two bags away was a declaration of determination as it were. In other words, if I ever regain that lost 65 pounds, I really will have nothing to wear!

So when I close the computer and go pack, we’ll be packing one full bag of dress up clothing—including a tux Bill hasn’t worn for over a decade. We plan to dress up. We’ll booked in a suite, so I’m expecting we’ll have at least one invitation to the captain’s table. I’m pretty sure we’ll be taking in some of late evening shows. In the process, we’ll also be doing our steps—some on board and some off—but this time when we stay on board the ship, it’ll be an active choice rather than a necessity.

This cruise is our way of giving each other gold stars.

I think we’ve both earned them.