While I’ve been in California, surrounded by sunshine and the familiar comfort of family, Yann, Chelsea and the Pickles are off in Normandy, visiting his mother. And truly — I am happy for them. Really, I am. It’s a beautiful thing — three generations under one roof, stories passing hands, and I’m truly glad they’re there. Truly.
And somewhat envious.
I have only been gone two and a half weeks, but somehow I’m convinced they’ve grown, changed, turned into slightly new versions of themselves. Children have a way of doing that — unfolding just a little more each day. We grow up in a blink of an eye don’t we?!
It’s the oddest feeling — to be content where I am, and still feel the soft ache of missing the little moments I’m not part of. It’s strange how both things can be true: I’m exactly where I want to be, and still, a piece of me is faraway.
So I water the garden, listen to my mom’s stories, and enjoy this time for what it is. And yet, I find myself counting the days with one eye on California and one ear straining toward Normandy.
And I know — when the time comes to leave here, that ache will travel with me too. I’ll carry it, just as I carry the joy of being where I am. That’s how it is, I suppose, when your heart lives in more than one place — you never leave without leaving a little bit of yourself behind.
Yann’s mom (96, soon to be 97!) and his sister.
Claire Sparkle learned to ride a bicycle!
All photos via Chelsea xx
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