In Media Res

21^st August, 2011

It’s a cloudy morning in Brussels, the sort of morning that coaxes a pensive mind. I am at Gate A33 in Brussels International Airport, awaiting my connecting flight to Geneva after a seven hour flight from JFK.

At present, I am unaccompanied. Dominique’s connecting flight out of Brussels was earlier than mine, and he thus had to sprint through the airport, while I have about two hours to simmer. I’m glad that Dominique was the one to get the earlier flight, as a) he’s the faster runner, and b) I welcome these moments alone to reflect on what’s ahead of me, as this two and a half month trip is rather different from previous trips.

Now that I’m a college graduate, and now that Dominique and I are legally married, we are beginning to think more longterm. This trip is essentially a test, to see how things work for us living together in Switzerland, and determine whether it is a lifestyle we can reasonably pursue. I view these things from a practical as well as emotional perspective, because to me, feeling at peace in a place is essentially as important as whether I can learn the language or find a job. So, this trip is our experiment.

This time more than ever before, I miss my mom. A part of my heart just sinks whenever I think about being away from her and my brother for so long. I hear babies crying throughout the terminal, and quite frankly, I’d love to join the ensemble. I wept as our plane left JFK, more than I can recall ever weeping. I mean, I realize I am a fairly weepy person, but to mourn our separation so much is a bit surprising. But then, my mom has gone through so much these past few years, and continues to do so, that perhaps it makes sense to miss her this much. Plus, as we are so eager to live together as an eventual three-generational household, it seems a bit unfair to think of living apart when we want to be together. It’s ironic, when I think about it. Most people my age are waiting for the moment they can leave their parents and get out of the house, be it via their driver’s license, their out-of-state college choice, or their new lives begun with spouses and families. I’m mostly the reverse, content to spend my Friday nights at home, happy to exchange details of the day with my mom, and eager to do such things for many years to come.

But life has its ebb and flow, and that path can never be solely in our control. At its best, it is a balance of co-creation between ourself and God. It’s a concept that’s easy to say but hard to live, being as it is rooted in placing one’s trust in something incorporeal. But it is what we must do. It’s what I must do - for the next two months, and beyond.

This moment and this spot seem to me a very fine place to begin this blog, which is meant to be a place for me to reflect on my travels and experiences for these next few months. This place is just one stop on the journey, just as this trip is one stop on our journey to find out way as a couple. And as much as the fears of today tend to strand us within today, we are always present within one stop on some larger journey. It is these thoughts which ground me - these, and the gentle loving eyes from my husband as we travel. We can be each other’s personal douleur dans la derriere, but we definitely know when to cut the crap so that we can support each other, and Dominique has absolutely done that.

All in all, there’s fear, but there’s also hope, and much to look forward to. I want to capture that muchness as much as I can, here, in words and maybe sometimes in other media. I hope this place can house something good. And I hope it will be something you enjoy too.

Until next entry,

Cathlene