Usually I say the best part of vacation is coming home.
But not this time.
We spent so much time thinking forward to this trip, reminding the kids of their great friendships so they could pick right back up where they left off and planning where we would go and stay.
I forgot to plan for how hard it would be to leave, how hard it would be to tear that band-aid off of the freshly healed wounds.
I can honestly say that after the first two days I completely forgot about coming home because the whole trip didn't seem real to me.
Just another one of my fantastically tangible day dreams, complete with sound and smell.
The unearthly beauty of the landscape, the angelic faces of happy children, the tenuous new friendship between the husbands, listening to the joyful cacophony that is their family and being a part of it again...
All this did nothing to help me feel the reality of coming here, from there.
So here I am, feeling a bit numb, waiting for the tears to fall,
wondering how in the world we're going to make this work.