Far from home on Mother’s Day

When I planned this trip I didn’t notice that I was going to be away on Mother’s Day. And when I figured it out I thought “No big deal. The kids won’t care. And who wouldn’t want to spend Mother’s Day in Paris?”

The reality of today has been sobering. It didn’t feel like Mother’s Day at all but not because I didn’t get breakfast in bed or handmade cards or flowers. It was the lack of connection and physical contact that made it such a lonely day.

Hugs and kisses and little cheeks pressed against mine. Big, proud smiles on the faces of my girls that make me smile in return. Shared moments. Shared love.

This is day 9 of my 16 day trip and I am feeling the loneliness. Don’t get me wrong I know I am lucky to have this alone time and it has given me a chance to do some soul searching and reflecting that I sorely needed. (And not being asked a question every 3 seconds is a nice bonus as well.)

I tried to call my kids today but the connection was terrible and it became one of those frustrating phone calls rather than one that helped ease the ache in my heart for them.

Because the truth is I miss my people. Not just my little people but all the people. My husband, my mother, my family and friends. I miss connection and intimacy.

Being in Paris has made me acutely aware of how much I miss my husband. I’ve been here twice before – both times with him (and coincidentally both times with a baby in my belly) – so this city is full of memories of shared experiences. I’m definitely doing my best on re-claiming this city for my own with lots of writing in little cafes…but there is a noticeable vacancy in my days.

Wow…listen to me. First world problems much? Sheesh…

I am so blessed to have this opportunity and I am making the most of it you can be sure. But if one of the revelations that comes of this journey is that I am much happier to share these experiences with people I love…I certainly won’t see that as a failure.

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