Wednesday, 01.04.2017 - 11:33 am.
I'm taking a flight back to the UK in about six hours. It's always heartbreaking, leaving my family. I had a wonderful time here in Houston, thought, as it is usual at the end of these kinds of trips, it feels that time was too short. As soon as I'm separated from family members, it feels like the encounter didn't happen at all.
I said goodbye to my parents, sister and Brother #2 and family on January 1st. We spent the weekend at Brother and SIL #1's house. There was enough room for everyone, so about 13 people in the same house did not feel crowded, fortunately. Before the 27th, I was on my own with Brother, SIL, nephew and niece #1, and after January1st, I've been with them and Brother #3 (he and I are aiming to write together a proposal for a chapter about hate crimes, I hope we make it!). Just a lot of quality family time.
My dad cried when he said goodbye to me, and there was indeed the question at the back of my mind if I'd see him and my mom again. They seem so fragile now, and it took me like a day to warm up to them again, after not seeing them for long. And we were together just one full day, so go figure. On Sunday night, my parents and sister went to New Mexico with Brother #2 and his family, to his house. There is always a "next time we see each other..." in our goodbyes.
I'm torn, looking forward to going home and wanting to stay here. Nothing unusual. These days I've had a lot of things on my mind to talk about here, about my family, but I've forgotten most of it. It must be noted, though, that most of those were good things. I put aside my writing* this past weekend and my self got lost in the group: I forgot about myself and focused on being part of the family unit.
*I did write my first column for the UK/Latin American magazine, and submitted two short stories hoping to make it into an anthology. I hope they pick me. Also, I didn't work on my AF story as much as I wanted, but the work I got done was pretty good, if I say so myself.
Something else that was nice, and please don't take it the wrong way: not being a married person. I mean, I am such a person, I am married. I love Andrew, we've talked everyday, and can't wait to see him tomorrow, but...well, it's the same thing that happened when I was with Joseph and I'd leave him for the holidays. I just like being alone, too. I had a big, cozy bedroom with bathroom all to myself for days, that's quite a luxury.
Anyway. It's back to reality for me, for the whole family. I'll be home tomorrow afternoon (UK time, morning here) and I will have to start catching up with the PhD. I'm not looking forward to the tasks that await, namely, chasing participants and teaching a class in February. Ugh. The rest is fine, though: lots of reading and writing. But I suppose I will worry about all that once I'm home. In my other home.
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