Always Together, Suddenly Apart

We spent a year together 24/7.

And this weekend I got on a plane and left them behind only to have feelings I haven’t experienced in a long, long time.

I missed them.

Yup. I said it.

I. Missed. Them.

This weekend I spent four days and three nights in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The visit was a press trip – where members of the media from various organizations get together to learn about a destination’s offerings – and it was fantastic. I enjoyed the arts, culture and eats of Philadelphia, but the nagging sentiment in the back of my mind? “I wish they were here.”

To say that we “bonded” over our year away together sounds so trite. It was so much more than that.

Together in Versailles

The kids talked (talk) to Ish and I so effortlessly during and since that trip. We’ve had conversations about “bad” words and best friends and the world’s evil and the world’s goodness. We share inside jokes and we giggle more. And even in the stress of resisting a complete reintegration to the world we’d left behind we’ve all found comfort and confirmation of who we are as a family in each other.

I’ve been away a few times since being back, but perhaps because this was the first time that I flew without them, or because they were here with me last time or because I had more down time than when I was  speaking in Ottawa, this was different.

I missed them.

I wanted to find them in the hotel room when I returned, to share the funny stories, to see the light in their eyes when they talk about days at school and quizzes they aced and teachers they laugh with. And when I walked into the incredibly authentic  replica of an Indian temple in the Philadelphia Art Gallery, I swear I could hear my kids giggles as clearly as I had when we visited similar places in India. The lump in my throat was undeniable.

The Indian Temple replica that almost brought me to tears.

They are cool people this family of mine. They are fantastic travel companions. So smart. Really funny.

And they are home while I am here.

What love looks like

I’m a travel writing wife and mother.

Blessing. Curse.