Finally! I've mustered enough courage to come back and face this abandoned blog. Alright, not really abandoned, it's always in my mind when I take photos of my little boy... I just never found time to face the bulk of photos I took for it. I wanted to chronicle our short visit to my homeland but, alas, the joy of the visit overtook all my good intentions and here I am sat with a sea of photos to look through and a sand-filled beach of memories to sift through. I am, however, determined. Very determined to share it all with you. So I will, little by little, in a short series of posts. Interspersed with it will be posts about what's happening at present. Time doesn't stop, you know. :)
I'll be like Audrey Niffenegger and play with time. At least for now I'll know a bit of how Henry felt. I've always been Clare. :)
Every journey begins with a first step, so here we go...
Our JourneyHome (Part 1)
The trip to the airport took a whole week.
Yes, that's right. The trip to the airport was a journey in itself. The little boy was sick with fever days before we were to travel.
It got to the point that I was worried we weren't going to take that flight at all. The night before the plane trip, the fever broke. We breathed a sigh of relief - only to gulp all the breath in again when he had a slight temperature the afternoon we were getting set for the flight. Something told me that the flight wasn't going to be the snuggly cozy five hours I imagined it would be.
But, my son, you see, he rallied. He seemed to have gathered enough strength to play and run and enjoy the aiport when we got there.
His squeals as he darted through the corridors belied the fact that he'd been sick for days - and that he was still slightly sick that night.
His smile wasn't on when we were in the plane, though. The five hours it took to fly us home must've been the most uncomfortable night sleep he's had in days.
But then morning came and it brought us home to hugs and kisses.
(to be continued...)
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