This is my third night away from home. The conference is interesting, though there have been one or two presentations that I've just turned off part way through.
Even though we have had fantastic weather and everything and everyone has been most friendly, the novelty of being away has worn off. I reallyreally just want to be home. How do people do it who are constantly travelling? Are they like so many doctors that become immune to others people’s pain? Do they emotionally detach themselves from the day-to-day going ons at home?
I received a short email from C. saying that her six year old son and husband were just playing a round of soccer out in their garden. The son was representing Germany, her husband holding up the honour of Trinidad and Tobago. Now, her son plays a fierce ball, so it is easy to imagine his as Germany. But, her husband as Trinidad… sent me into stiches of laughter and glee… and then such a sweet bitter homesickness.
The worse part, or maybe the only truly relevant part, is Julien is leaving for five weeks this evening. He is off to Japan. Five weeks. Japan. Gosh. Too long. Too far. He’s taking a get-used-to-it-mom-I-am-spreading-my-wings sort of attitude. Way too mature for me. Now I know why I never look back when walking down a gateway.
Slash/ slash/ bleeding tears from our endless farewell/ which started days before when the joyful anticipation did a belly flip into darker waters/ I thought of all there was left to do and all that will never get done/ or said/ and it will last forever/ or until the flight attendant (dare I say stewardess) asks me whether I would like something to drink for the first time/ on an endless journey forward/ but where from/ or/ where to
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