I have spent the week 5000 miles from home. Leaving behind my husband, children and dogs. I was ready to come home, half way across the United States only on my first flight. I am a sap and missed my people already. However, I am so glad I made the trip, created the memories, and took the chance (Je prende le Risque). Next is my account of the events.
In the countryside of South France, only footsteps from the Mediterranean, the homes are separated by thick hills full of green and stillness. The sound of a crying baby or a roaring party guest are exactly the same as in Phoenix, but they are followed by the echo of empty space.
The impromptu family dinners for 10, taste and feel the same as at home too. The to do list for the wife is The SAME. The highs and melt downs of a 2 year old are The SAME, and the dogs life is The SAME.
The hard work is The SAME, and they give birth the same too. There are really only two major differences I noticed. The BEACH! So beautiful and naked. Topless everyone and little naked children running around all over, I was praying they had sunscreen on!
And second, my Sister. She is beautifully pregnant and so at home there. Although there may not be an outward overflowing spectacle of our relationship, the true, underlying "you don't have to say one word" is the part that I miss terribly and hate to leave. I suppose that is the reason we can not talk or see each other for a month or a year even, yet fall back into place as we were just together. I do feel selfish that I didn't make it for Eloise. But I am rationalizing that Cash will remember me and Megan and I will have a memory for the lifetime.
Good Night France.
