The Morning After

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Airplane travel never ceases to amaze me. On a Sunday night I entered an airplane in Houston and on a Monday morning I was in the southern tip of the world. My brain is just barely catching up to my body.

If I’m being honest, my brain hasn’t been attached to my body since July 9th, the day my mom told me she had a brain tumor. Texted me. Life hasn’t been the same since.

I can’t be held responsible for any decisions I’ve made between then and now. I’ve been like a feather, floating, following the currents of the wind. Things have been happening to me and I feel like I have no control over them. Fortunately for the feather, it’s light and can ride the wind without any fear of falling. Once the wind commences, feathers float gracefully to the ground. I’ve been following the wind, but with a fear that has a grip on me that I can’t unlock.

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The view from my apartment.

Needless to say, I’m here, in Buenos Aires. How I ended up here is still a mystery. I feel like I got drunk and woke up in an unfamiliar bed. There’s that regret that hangs on after a wild night of drinking. Even if you had fun, you rack your brain wondering what mistakes you made, if your behavior was appropriate or what people must think of you. But if I embrace this moment, if I let myself be empowered by it instead of wondering what I “should” be doing, then it’s pretty fucking sweet.

On the other hand, as a mother, homesickness is truly a sickness. Other friends are so good at it. They travel with their husbands to Thailand or France, leaving the kids with grandparents. Either I’m not acclimated or trained well enough, or my heart is just too weak to sustain the distance. Particularly in this moment when my kids are incredibly sweet and interesting and actually fun to hang out with.

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But for now I have to embrace this moment. I’m exploring and remembering who I am when I’m not a mother, or a daughter in mourning, or a business owner or a wife. For some reason the universe put this in front of me. I have taken the invitation and now I have to show up to the party. Ready to eat.

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2 thoughts on “The Morning After

  1. I’m sorry to hear about your mom. I will say a wee prayer for her. I hope you have a great trip despite the turmoil. From what I know of your mom, she wants you to drink life in. I’m sure she wants you to enjoy every moment now more than ever.

    • Trevor! Thanks for reaching out. You have experience with both of these issues: mourning a mother and living with wanderlust. I have to say this experience is really helping me find my center, which has needed to happen. I hope all is well with you!

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