Just a thought... Running away from home never really solved anything, but we don't think it can hurt for now either, so off we go.
I wrote the following journal before the horrifying news out of Nice, France emerged yesterday evening. I hadn't planned on mentioning where we were going until we'd returned with stories and pictures, but we are going to Nice as a part of our journey.
We have chosen France as our destination, knowing full well that it's under high security alert, but feeling when we booked that it would be safer now than ever because of that. Of course, seeing yesterday's tragedy reminds us that we're never truly immune from the evil men do, and that holds for any place, any time.
Our travels take us to Paris and then to Nice, and we will be sticking with the plans we have made. Immersing ourselves in sadness and uncertainty will be in no way different from our lives of the past 14 months...only much more so. Our hearts break for those who suffer. We'll all just continue to be, to mend together. And now, to today's entry.
This journal is taking a break for the next couple of weeks - returning the Tuesday after the long August weekend, as will we - and I just thought I'd let you know I'll be taking lots of pictures, many of which I'll be sharing with you here. We have some sightseeing to do, but mostly it's about reconnecting, Rob and me.
It seems like forever since we've been away together, and really it's been since Christmas, but when you're counting days in ways like this...
...and measuring moments in memories, it's easy to lose track.
Going in, we were aware that when something as traumatic as losing a child takes place, it can truly tear a couple apart; you hear of it all the time. Rob and I thought that we had this. The first few months of "shock and awful" had us holding on to each other for dear life, but as time has gone on, the space between us feels like it has been widening.
I think it may be an attempt not to bring the other down when you're each riding the highs and lows of different waves at any given moment. But my tendency, at least, is to try not to lean, lest it be more weight than Rob can handle. And he'd admit to doing the same, I'm sure, if we talked about it.
The nights are spent taking turns with sleeplessness, sighing silently and worrying about how the future will unfold, thanks to events over which we have absolutely no control. It's a clammy, clingy quicksand that envelops you and there's little room for desire, for closeness, for anything but the knowledge that for now, at least, the other person is within arm's reach. But sometimes, just barely.
And so, with that in mind, we'll hold hands the next few weeks and try to remember when we were a couple simply in love and not in pain: two people whose hearts were bound in something other than barbed wire, bound together in hope.
We'll sleep, we'll eat things we don't indulge in at home (cheese, please) and we'll try to get ourselves out of the rigid headspace of just getting through another day towards the next, on the way to some blurry finish line. We'll return inspired and refreshed in every way that we can make happen.
Please enjoy these sweet weeks of July and we'll be back here with you soon. Thank you.