I've been away for a little while. I know. I'm sorry. This is a new blog, and I know what they say about content creators needing to churn out as much as possible.
But we've been busy for a little while. With something that I hope you'll probably agree is worth missing a few blog updates.
Ready for it?
It's family.
James and I were on spring break and went back to New York to visit both of our families. Whether it's been weeks, months, or years since we've last seen these familiar faces, it always feels like it's been forever. James and I both grew up in tight-knit families, so much that the ocean of inside stories, shared memories, and laugh-'til-you-choke jokes could saturate the world's biggest sponge.
We haven't resided in the same state as our families for nearly six years, so our distance from them has always been a heavy weight on the 'con' side of every move we've considered. James is the eldest of two boys (four, if you count his two cousins, who have been so tightly bound with him since childhood that they may as well be brothers), and I'm the oldest of three sisters, who may as well breathe the same air as me since we already share the same souls.
These people are everything.
Over the years, love created new bodies, and our family has grown to include lots of little ones, all of whom James and I love as our very own.
We only had a few short days with both of our families, so we squeezed each second for all the soul-filling drops they were worth.
Every time we're in New York, I have mini-panic attacks all throughout our time there.
There's always some kind of trigger. We might look at our watch and suddenly realize how fast the days are flying by.
Or eat a nostalgic food and realize it'll be the last time we'll eat this in awhile.
Or get a prompt from our airline to check in for our flight.
Whatever it is, it's always a gut punch to know that separation is, once again, around the corner. Knowing all this, James and I felt simultaneously grievous yet all the more determined to relish whatever time we had with these precious people.
We hammered down a firm away message on our e-mail clients so we could have hour-long breakfasts with our parents.
We put schools out of our minds so we could explore the sequins on the COOLEST. BACKPACK. EVER.
We cast away all generally accepted wisdom about health and wellness to consume as much as we humanly could without resurrecting Roman vomitoriums of yore.
And we made time for in-person smiles.
Nostalgic, late-night snickers.
Home cooking.
And love-soaked small moments.
Over the years, James has grown accustomed to the fact that I will always, always, always cry whenever we're flying back home from a visit with family.
It's true. I will. Whether it's an all-out sob session or a single tear getting furtively brushed away while I think he's not looking (he always catches me), I never leave New York with dry eyes. It feels like a painful and unnatural rent within my chest every time we return those wretched miles between us and family.
So I could ask you to forgive me for being away.
But I won't.
So sorry not sorry.
