Majestic castles, breakfasts overlooking the sea, gorgeous green against ancient stone. Scotland was grand. Arriving home without my luggage was not.
I typically prefer to pack lightly. I once went a week in Costa Rica with a single small backpack. But for this trip, I was ready for all occasions. The predicable rain, the fancy dinner with fancy lawyers, and the right outfit for when the perfect Scottish selfie moment arrived.
When my travel companion’s bag arrived a day late, surely mine was not far behind. I’d had delayed bags before. Despite my daily grumbling, I had had a good amount of hope.
People asked about my travels. I reported on the wonderful whiskey, the royalty, and my fiancé golfing on the world-famous Old Course. I always added my suitcase story.
“Did you lose anything that broke your heart?” a friend asked. I thought about my best vintage sweater gifted to me from a dear friend. Antique white, bejeweled with tiny pearls and miniature rhinestones, it was a perfect fit for me in every way.
“Somethings that hurt my heart, but nothing that broke it,” I replied.