Our holiday back to the states was a bit like being on safari. I came back with a tired body, but feeling quite calm and sound of mind. It was so surreal to move busily, but intimately, through a series of events of which real life are made. Showers. Mother’s Day. Rehearsal. Graduation. Birthdays. Wedding.
When our holiday had come to its end and we boarded the plane for London, I wanted to remain near the people I was leaving – including the ones I didn’t even get to squeeze. But I had no fear about returning to this place along the canal with my insane job and strange new day to day routine.
In the middle of missing you (yes, you), I also felt peaceful that I wasn’t leaving her (my mom) behind this time. I understood that she was, as I had been telling myself since last May, in the rain and the sun rays and everywhere else. I was not, this time, abandoning her.
One year ago on this date I questioned everything. Somehow my shy, sensitive husband became my immovable rock. Somehow, Creation saw to it that four extra arms were here to wrap themselves around me.
One year ago tomorrow I lost all track of time and space. And I haven’t been quite the same since.
In the midst of my own pity party, I give thanks that life springs forward. I couldn’t be more grateful for that. And I couldn’t be happier to bear witness to the beauty.