Besides the fact that it's a central point and frequent TDY destination for many of our nearest and dearest, and the fact that the icy Atlantic pond and uncertainties and cruelties of transatlantic travel no longer constitute the challenges of spending time with us.. we're sure we'll see more of our extended budo family.
We'll probably have to set up a room for at least one of them!
That's more than okay, it's our pleasure, our privilege, and our happiness.
For us, it's a denouement.
Imagine eating in Puerto Rico, Tuscany or Singapore for some years.. then coming back to the Midwest... suddenly, it's like your tongue has died.
We're going to be mourning, no doubt.
Going from sitting in an Italian-run coffee shop in a heated tent on the Victuallenmarkt in Munich, to downtown Frederick, MD in some dismissive tourist joint.. unless we can speak some good Italian words to the staff.. if they are Italian.. then we can speak Spanish, that's a favorite (we really do love Spanish, much more logical to the Latinate mind than Deutsch, or, for that matter, English!) just, please, give us good coffee. Not burnt crap Starbucks.
Give me unoaked Italian Chardonnay.. don't make me chew on an oak log to enjoy my wine. I've split plenty of oak, and while I'm too broken to think of ever doing it again, I still love the aroma of fresh split wood.. I just don't like having to chew through a cord to sip my wine.
How many Chard lovers have set a "wood grenade" in Texas bur oak, and set to its destruction? I don't know, but I still have dents on my skull and splinters in my skin. Like the remnants of iron mesquite thorns in my feet, which always point South to Texas, when I ask them where home is.
Then, I ask them how they got there, and the conversation gets uncomfortable from there.
You know what?
I got the chance to go home.. and I had to choose between caring for the man I love, and that.
I chose caring for the man I love, and in return, he brought me what may be the opportunity I have been working for, all this time.
It's a time and place, to go looking for my time and place.
I feel I've paid my dues, done my homework and paperwork (more of that to come, to work in MD!) and now, maybe now, it can pay off. So far, it's all been pioneering, hacking down brush and blazing the path.
More to come, for sure, and if I should wonder how the path can be thornier, I'm sure it will become so...
So I refuse to wonder, and simply, quietly, sharpen my machete.
My time with cg has been one of immense lightning strikes, serendipity and extreme kindness from people I barely feel I know. He inspires that in people, with his immense heart and commitment.
To what, to why, I couldn't tell you. You have to cross hands with him, to look him in the eye (one artificial lens may glint at you, now, one pupil will never be so small as the natural one) but this man has something, IS something.
I'm in a weird situation. I am both wife and deshi.
As wife, I may kill him.
As deshi, I would kill for him.
I find both and either a bit confusing.
Meanwhile, we have, together, a destination.
And we plan to enjoy it.
My machete is sharp, my shovel is ready, my mind is open and curious.
Yeah, and I have a folder ready for paperwork.. Ready to make it work.
Ready for our destination.