Saying goodbye to my family in California does not grow easier. How could it be? Instead of going down the rabbit hole of longing to have everyone I love in one place, the impossible dream. I remind myself how fortunate I am to have two worlds that I can call home and be grateful that I am able to travel back and forth, saying goodbye and living far away is not easy nor should it be. That is the bittersweet gift of long-distance love. Seeing my mom and sharing Gabriel with my family pulled every single heartstring at once. Instead of hearing that as a sad song, I am learning to move with the melody even if slowly.
Coming back to France after being home takes me a few days to put my roots back into the soil of where I am, I suppose the surrealness of travel, the changing hours plus being jet-lagged gives way to my sensitivities about family and living abroad.
Happiness does not change it is simply an adjustment period.
Walking around Paris, beautiful Paris, was a far cry from Willows
my home base of a different type of beauty.
Gabriel was held nearly every minute of the day and somehow learned how to roll over and sit up.
What a lucky little person to be born into such goodness. He was smothered in love and rolled up in sugar. If he was edible there would not have been a single crumb of him left.
Such a good thing that he loved being passed around into one waiting arm after another.
-After a three-hour car trip to the airport,
-Arriving two hours before takeoff to go through customs,
-Sitting for nine hours plus on an airplane,
-Then going through customs again and taking a forty-five-minute taxi home.
-With a nine-hour time difference, we arrived in Paris safely, without a single tear or problem.
Of course, we held and played with Gabriel the entire way otherwise the narrative would have been vastly different, thankfully he slept more coming back then going over.
Sleep is on the agenda and letting my roots settle in.
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