One morning, after going through a week of deadlines and long to-do lists, we decided to ignore the piling work and take a trip out to the Eastern Region of Ghana. We got up early with the hopes of making a quick trip and returning before the rest of the world woke up. I remember our excited faces, enjoying the feeling of having stolen time from the world, as we hurriedly got into our cars and made our way to Senchi. But perhaps, I remember, more clearly, the brief moment of disappointment that crawled up on us when, after only thirty minutes into our journey, a client called to say he was waiting at our home. He had arrived really early hoping to get his work done and out of the way. Then, as if he had looked through our contacts and told everyone we had to meet that day of his plan to arrive hours early for our meeting, the calls started coming in. “I happen to be near your house, could I just come in now and fix the paint as you asked?”, “We’ve brought in the table, we need someone to let us in the house”, “Today is the only day we can do this.” One after the other, they called us, like a game of tag. And then in the middle of one call, my mom turned her head to the backseat and whispered to me “I think we have to go back.” I knew it was the right thing to do. We were not going to make it to Senchi before we had to turn back. “Can it wait?” I said. Loud enough so the person on the other side of the phone could hear. “You are after all early. Can it wait?” My mom reiterated. I could tell the disappointed look on my face had gotten to her and reminded her that she too needed a break. We fought the urge to turn back all the way through the journey. It got easier with every beautiful landscape motion-blurring past our windows, and it felt completely removed when we arrived at the resort. First, we said we’d only stay an hour, then another 30 minutes, and then, after two hours, we were certain, everything could in fact wait.
Somehow everything managed to work itself out that day.