So stateside, so Starbucks like, its scary. Literally. Guess it's a good warm up for me, a chance to test the water so I won't be so blindsided by the always shocking entrance back into life on the mega mainland. The land of fast moving, busy people, interstates, fashion, mega everything- over stimulating all of my Virgin senses.
As I watch Ny devour her pastry, not a care in the world, she looks at me, raises her eyebrows and nods. Our secret code that, damn, this food is good. I can tell she finds pastries are one of the right things in this world, finally something fair. Unlike lost jobs, lost plans, lost dreams. A legitimate excuse to eat sugar in the morning, passed as acceptable for breakfast by someone I am sure she would like to thank, maybe even hug.
We enjoyed this early morning moment, the calm before the storm, time together where everything is still the same, as it has been, still familiar.
Because I know the rest of my days here will be devoted to these guys, flat rate and parcel post boxes, our new companions. Packing our last few possessions, as the girls entertain themselves while their parents go crazy, stress, analyze and reanalyze how this will all work, attempting to solve the unsolvable million piece jig saw puzzle of what is important in life, what stays, what goes, what we really need, what we don't, what gets donated. This is beyond packing for vacation, this is packing for life, though leaving so much behind. We are now a light family, our lives condensed to a few boxes and suitcases, nomads until we find a new home to start over in. Leaving the place where it all began.
St. Croix, circa 2007, a few months after discovering Nyah would soon be joining me in life. My constant companion, my island girl, my coffee buddy for the