The departure was tough. My 5-year-old daughter didn't want to let go. Which is good because she used to not express her feelings. She's almost theatrical in her misery, so it's hard not to laugh. I spent the whole afternoon at the swimming pool with her thinking this would make it easier for her. But who was I kidding, though I have heard that good memories go a long way to helping the heart deal with missing. Eventually I asked her to draw me a picture that I would carry with me. She has a talent for drawing and here is her 10 second caricature for my trip:
How does one really say goodbye with completeness, with 100% centeredness. Maybe as my 1 year old daughter does: bye-bye, waving her hand awkwardly. Mon Amour was effected just as much. She said that I have brought so much presence to our lives, presence as a father and presence as a lover. She said she was going to miss me, she of all people. We are going places deeper than before, on all levels. She's the one.
I think that I prefer being the one staying behind. Because being the one leaving carries too much weight. As I went through all the over-security at Ben Gurion, anxiety crept in. Two glasses of wine in the Dan Lounge wasn't enough to bring me back to earth. I'm embarking on the first global project that I'm driving. I'm excited, I'm frightened, and yet I don't yet feel the strength of a worldly man. I'm not a pillar, I still crumble. Eventually I popped a pill sitting on the plane feeling uncomfortable in the belly and uneasy breathing.
And so I slept, and I calmed and now I'm awake, more confident, but feeling a bit lost. I love my family more than anything else in the world and yet I'm still not able to stand strong as a man. I'm lost because in this moment, so far from everyone, I don't think that I'm anything much.
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