And then there were three.....

I tried writing this morning on the Veranda, but the intensity of the sun was too much to take. If you wake up too late, you can barely look at the water because the sun's reflection is so bright. And the heat of the day begins early. Nights are cool enough to pull blankets up and if you rise early enough to see the sunrise there is a cool dampness in the air. It is at this moment, when the sun is just unfolding its rays, and peaking over the mountains on the other side of the sea, not too hot, and not too chilly, that I have come to enjoy the most. Everything is relatively quiet. No commotion. No stirring. Just that early morning calmness. There is an owl that perches on the TV antenna. He isn't a big owl, but he still has those wise old eyes circled in white, that ask "who are you?" Why are you here? And, why are you looking at me"? He will sit for a moment, caulking his head from side to side and then he flies off, irritated that I have interrupted his final prey for the night. With a fresh cup of Nescafe, I sit and wait, breathing in the experience. Then pajama-clad with "bear blankie" protectively nestled in arm, Elias will quietly appear. "Zsa Zsa, why are you sitting out hewr?", he asks with his three-year old lisp. "Because it is so beautiful. ", I respond. "Would you like to come out"? "No, I'll jutht sit here with my beaw." He then crawls up on the couch and waits until the entire affects of a good night's sleep are gone. But wait! What is that I'm hearing? Blaring up from the stairs below is a younger, louder, more awake voice. "ZSA ZSA! WHERE ARE YOU?" And the day begins.....

Today, there is no interruption. There is no sweet voice behind me. No yelling up the stairs. No little voices that say "Zsa Zsa", or "Papou Lou", with trust, and innocence, and unconditional love sharing their words. No day at the beach, no energy bouncing off the walls, no soccer in the front yard with Papou Lou, or Uncle Chris or Uncle Jonathan, no walking through the garden to pick the tomatoes or cucumbers for the salads, or the fresh fruit from the tree, to eat or feed to Eeyore or Billy. There won't be any chasing the stray cats or the "mmmmmaw" kisses and ever so tight hugs that say goodnight. Today there is silence. Nichole and Chris both left the house in a Taxi. Chris left last Thursday because he had to return home for a wedding. Nichole and family left yesterday to create their own journey. When your children walk out the door, regardless of their age, you still want to grab them back and squeeze them, holding them tightly, and wishing you could reverse time. To go back to when they were young and safe in your arms. Waving to a taxi is not natural.

Being young you take for granted the love of your family especially the love of your parents. In some innocently ignorant way, we think that today will last forever. But time changes everything. Parents grow older and we try not to notice, because it represents mortality for them and for us. Children grow up and move on. They become old enough to fly into your arms from halfway around the world and to fly right back out.

I suppose that is what this journey is all about. To realize that every generation before us is only separated because of a different time or a different place. For the most part people are all the same. From the young people holding hands and sharing a moment in time; to young families playing together on the beach sharing the same familiar family dynamics; to the elderly walking alone on a sidewalk carrying with them a lifetime of experiences. Every generation has loved, laughed and said goodbye.

Today we have created a memory. For us: a memory of a country laden with history and beauty; a reconnection of old friends; a connection of new relatives; and a sharing of precious moments with our children and grandchildren. For our children: a memory of experiences in a new place of of beauty and history that won't mean much until they grow older; of bonding with brothers and sisters and nephews in a place far from home. For our grandchildren: A water-colored memory of a time when they will remember... "when we took the airplane to see Papou Lou and Zsa Zsa; and we stayed at this really big house where you could see water forever. And I remember going to the beach and playing in the sand and sleeping under a big blue umbrella with the sea breeze blowing around me. I remember traveling up a winding road to a place where there were old crumbled house and an old old church where Papou Lou did Liturgy. I remember walking up the hill to a cemetery and lighting a candle at an altar. I remember playing soccer and kicking the ball waiting for Papou Lou or Uncle Chris or Uncle Jonathan to pull it out of the bushes, again and again and again. I remember picking tomatoes, and fruit off the trees, with Zsa Zsa, and feeding some to a donkey and a goat. I remember waking up early and watching Zsa Zsa sipping her coffee, with the sunrise reflecting behind her. I remember driving away through a big gate in a taxi cab leaving Zsa Zsa and Papou Lou behind. And waving goodbye, I remember tears."