My last trip abroad was 10 years ago. I was commemorating my 40th birthday, the end of a nine-year marriage, and my mother's death. I took some of her ashes and sprinkled them under a rosemary bush at the monastery where St. Francis fell asleep for the final time on a very short, very hard bed made of rock.
Different circumstances. I am traveling with a good friend who has already been around the world a few times, starting when he flew to England from Frankfurt (where he was born) at the age of two weeks. This man -- I'll call him Krang -- is also my husband, and this is our honeymoon....about seven and half years into the marriage.
When you marry at 42 and 50, hoping among other things to procreate, you can't dilly dally. By luck or grace or what you will, our son was born 10 months after we married and we've been pretty busy ever since.
As we said in our birth announcement, all good things come to those who wait. We'll see.
No comments:
Post a Comment