Maybe it was Maude. Maybe Dad. I suppose it could have been myself. But it's so much easier to "blame" others. I'm not sure where my journey began. Sure, I can point to specific dates when important undertakings and events took place, but when did the seed get planted in my head? I'm sure it was much sooner that when I returned from a month-long travel in Europe, having met the most inspiring and energetic cast of characters you could imagine. Included was Maude - my 83 year-old "guardian angel" who encouraged me to express myself through the written word. And who helped open my eyes to a great world beyond any visions to which I had previously been limited.

I certainly had the feet of gypsies even before my father's death not only released me from self-imposed home ties, but made me realize how precious life is. My interest in travel and foreign cultures goes way back. I vividly remember my first plane trip - to Colorado when I was 17. How embarrassed I was that I was 17 and had never even been on a plane before. My family didn't take vacations. But even back in high school, Sr. Karen's World Geography class kept my attention longer than most others. Throughout my twenties, Sunday night meant curling up with PBS's "Nature" and TBS's "National Geographic."

My first trip overseas - when I begged my father to let me go (i.e. pay for me to go) to London on an Overseas Studies program my senior year in college. Since then, I had visited half the United States and had gone back to Europe twice more before I made the decision to do more than just travel in another country. I had lived all of my 29 years in Southeastern Michigan. Traveling - especially in February - was a fantastic escape from the tedious routine and the psychotic weather. But that's just not the same as really getting to know another place. Another culture.

I knew that if I was going to do this thing, I'd have to get on it immediately. Within two weeks of my return to Detroit from the European trip, I went up to Michigan State's Career Placement Center to research overseas job opportunities. I was thoroughly disappointed. I had expected to find a wealth of information. All sorts of companies in Spain just dying to welcome me with open arms. Where were they? What was all this talk of how hard it was to find overseas employment? Have you no imagination, no sense of adventure!?" Don't you dare dampen my spirit! So it may not be as easy as I had fantasized. I might actually have to work at this.

Undaunted, I went to the University of Michigan's International Center two weeks later. And this time I was blown away. So much information! The woman there was so helpful. There were books listing language schools, pointing out tax tips, charting climate comparisons, and providing visa information. They had a binder of evaluations from students who had lived abroad for a time. They wrote of their experiences. Some went with a job in hand, others hit the streets to find work. Some experiences were negative, some fantastic. The one that gave me most hope was by a young man who had gone to Madrid with no job lined up, and found a job as an au pair. He heartily suggested just going and doing it rather than trying to find a job from the U.S. Through these mini-journals, I started to really get a sense of where my life was going. I felt myself bonding with these fellow travelers as I had with those I had met in Europe three months before.

I had pretty much settled on trying to find a job teaching English when I got to Spain. But there was that problem again - I couldn't find anyone with all the answers! "Why isn't there a book with all the answers?" Jenny asked. "It should give you step-by-step instructions on how to quit your job and move to Spain in six months." Yeah!

Anyway, I called the local Berlitz school. They didn't have a clue about what to do, but gave me the number of Berlitz in Spain. I managed to get a resume off to them. Hey, I was really actively searching for a job overseas! Of course, I had to keep getting on myself. I never was happy with the pace I was getting things accomplished. I always felt I should be doing something more. Neil gave me a book called "Working Your Way Around the World." Kate shared her experience of living in England for a year. "Choose Spain" by Betty Magee gave invaluable insights into Costa del Sol expatriate living. But did I want to go to Málaga or Valencia? That question remained for quite some time. The climates compared favorably. Valencia seemed so much more exotic. Memories of Bing Crosby's Minute Maid commercials featuring "Valencia oranges" perhaps.

"I think it's great." Words of encouragement.

"You get off the plane -- then what?" Words of incredulity.

I had expected the reactions of my friends and family to my decision would be as diverse as they are. I was not disappointed. I try to put myself in their shoes. Here comes this guy, fresh from a month in Europe, and he's talking of quitting his job and moving to Spain. Yeah, right. Of course, that's everyone's dream, but dreams aren't suppose to actually come true! I imagine that few people really believed, at first, that I would go through with it. It's a little disconcerting anyway, to have someone chase his dream. It makes you look at yourself. And think - what do I want? What are my dreams? Could I really...... nah! There's the house. And the kids' education. And I've got all my life to do something crazy. It can wait.

But.... how come he's doing it?

Matt and Elizabeth were probably the first to realize how serious I was. They, after all, had the benefit of my telling them the story of Maude - in rare form - only days after my return. I remember how vividly I related the experience to them. How intense I was. How full of life I was. They must have known that something very special touched me that gray day with Maude in the rolling German countryside. When I told Karen, she suggested that Maude may have been my dad's doing from the beyond. I think I talked five hours nonstop. I was so full of energy!

My brothers and sisters-in-law, as is our family's way, were even-keeled about it. They conveyed a lot of encouragement, as well as uneasiness. I think the story of Maude, with the dad tie-in, assured them of my resolve to follow through with this pilgrimage. Too many pieces were falling into place. The reaction at work was mixed. The encouragement to follow my heart and find my destiny was tainted with a twinge of heartbreak. I had grown to truly love my coworkers. Their love, support and friendship throughout the previous 3 1/2 years had buoyed me personally as well as professionally. Only the thought of greater glories overcame the sorrow of impending separation.

Marcia kept on the positive offensive. Whenever the news of my decision was relayed, one by one, to district coworkers who dropped in from time to time, she kept repeating, "I think it's great!" That helped. It was great, but it was still scaring the shit out of me.

Gene's reaction was the antithesis. At a dinner party soon before my departure, he couldn't quite grasp the concept of packing up and leaving without a finely-detailed course of action. The situation was inconceivable. "So you get off the plane in Spain - then what?" he asked.

"I find a hotel," I replied.

"But after that, then what?" he countered.

"I look for an apartment," I replied confidently. "Then what?" "I look for a job," I replied, a little less self-assured.

"Then what?"

"Well, I don't know. I'll just see what happens. Take one day at a time. And if all else fails, I can always came back."

That was one of my rallying cries. "I can always come back." I think that's what made it work. I allowed myself an out. I knew that life would go on, even if I had to grovel back to Detroit, poor and destitute.

One of the most difficult things I had to do was find a home for my dog, Dingo. Six weeks before I was set to leave, I still hadn't figured out if he was coming with me (that would have been interesting) or not. Thankfully, Maureen told me she had been thinking of getting a second dog anyway, so why not give Dingo a test drive? Whew. One problem solved.

Then there was only everything else!