I stare at the computer screen. I read the words "...I am thrilled to present to you our formal offer letter." Rob wants me to read through the terms of the agreement which offers him a job in New York City. (Apparently I was once a lawyer and did in fact study contract law.) But the words are blurred on the page as the many thoughts simultaneously racing through my head cloud my vision. Then I see the start date. June 30. It is nearly April. I quickly do the math to calculate when this moment, this experience, this world we created in London would be just a memory. Is it even real now? It feels like the floor is shifting beneath me. This has all been an act in a play and soon the sets will be taken down, lights fade to black. I look around the room now taking mental pictures of everything my eyes meet. The grain pattern of the wood floorboards whereupon 18 months ago I paced back and forth in early stages of labor. The spot on kitchen counter where Siena always sits when acting as sous chef. I can't bring myself to look in Siena's nursery. Or to think of the tidal wave of emotion I will feel closing the door for the last time on the first place she'll ever call home.
I've been expecting the news of a job offer for weeks, actually in a way from the time we arrived in London. But my reaction I could not begin to predict, as much as I tried. My instinct is to write. To put fingers to keyboard in hopes that the free flow of words eloquently articulates what my muddled mind finds difficult to process. I am very much a live in the present type of person which actually makes me more emotional when closing a happy chapter in my life because often the final words are "goodbye" rather than "see you later." I find looking back painful because I know I could never replicate those remarkable, life affirming, character building experiences. I remember hugging my friends in Buenos Aires and boarding the plane back to NY after 6 months living abroad. I had held it together as we said our goodbyes but as soon as I put my carry on in the over head compartment and settled into my seat I crumbled. Yelping to catch my breath through audible sobs the flight attendant asked if I was leaving my family behind. I replied, "no, I'm going back to them."
Yet there are two vital differences which distinguish all my prior experiences from this one, and their names are Rob and Siena. So maybe this act in my play is ending but the principal players remain bringing with them the heart of these two years lived in London.
Rob and I each wrote our own wedding vows which we shared with one another for the first time at the ceremony. By sweet coincidence we both ended our vows with these words, "when I am with you wherever we may be, I am safe, I am loved and I am home"
Well New York, we're coming home.
Thrilled is the right word! Congrats & kudos to your smart husband, our wonderful son (in law :) Rob, clearly they saw what we already know. Li, no doubt it will be emotional & bittersweet to pack up and leave London, Siena's birthplace. Just think what fun it will be to return there with her one day and revisit the palaces where she had play groups and the parks where she loved to play. But I know, and you know, that it is time to turn the page and start a new chapter. I can't wait for it to begin!! I love you three and can't wait for you to come back home and be close to me. I'm counting the days!! xoxo
ReplyDelete