Amy's America

This was written enroute home on Thursday, July 15 – just took a while to get on the internet!

(In the car on the way to the airport)

For probably the first time ever, I actually had double (triple) checked every room, drawer, cabinet and closet and was zipping the last of my five suitcases when my video doorbell rang for the last time. It was the car to bring me on the first leg of my journey home.

I’m now in the car and the driver is taking a rather interesting route to Heathrow. I’ve driven there (and in that general direction – it’s on the way to Nick’s high school) many, many times and have never taken such a scenic route. But it makes me happy. Maybe the driver knows I am leaving for good (at least for now) and thinks I should see the sites one last time. Bye Ben, Westminster Abbey, Horseguards and the London Eye. I’ll miss walking in you, St. James Park. The Thames – so glad I spent so much time by you. I must always live near water and you certainly more than sufficed.

Farewell, brave guards protecting the Queen and trying to keep a straight face as all those tourists photograph you. Thanks for the great dinner last night, Palm. Bye Sloane Square and Alivia’s street. No worries – I’m sure Nick will be back real soon!

South Ken – I really didn’t spend enought time at the museums. They are so wonderful. And look – the blue circles on the buildings that boast the famous people who lived there or events that occurred there. All historic, though, nothing current. You won’t find one that says ‘Jude Law lives here’ – sorry Erin!

Oh, there’s Hammersmith and Chiswick, our original London home. Glad I got one last perusal of the charity shops, but really wish I’d gone back to Primark for that shirt! I’ll miss Turnham Green – home of my favourite London Lebanese resataurant Elias. No, we are not actually passing Turnham Green – that would have been even more strange, but just being by Chiswick reminds me of it. Ah, now we’re on the M4 – the normal route. We’ll be at the airport soon.   

I can’t help but be so thankful for Nick and my time here. We are so blessed. We were lucky to meet such wonderful people in London. From my work colleagues in Warwick and London to my line dance and meet up friends – especially my book club girls! Then there was the dating foray where, of course, I met someone special. We had an incredible few weeks together and he really made the end of my time here that much better – and both easier and harder at the same time. It was so hard saying goodbye this morning – but I know it’s the right thing for both of us.

On the plane

I thought of asking the flight attendants if many people cry their eyes out on the plane. Yes, that’s me. I don’t think I’ve made it through a flight to or from England without any tears, no matter which direction I was heading. I actually made it through almost four hours – two movies and a meal – before making the mistake of putting Lady Antebellum on my ipod and closing my eyes. Then it hit me.

I hid under my blanket and tried to cry as softly as possible, although that’s not easy and it actually physically hurts trying to hold it back. I imagined someone asking me what’s wrong. No one ever does – people just look the other way when they see a stranger cry. Not sure if I would want to talk to someone right this moment or not, but I suppose it is always nice to feel like someone cares.

So what would I say? Why the hell am I crying? I guess because I’m sad (duh). And scared. And guilty.

I’m sad to leave a country I love so much. Correction: a city. London. I know that sounds strange from a girl who started this blog two months ago because she was so anxious to return home. But something happened in those two months. I made a commitment to really live in London. To make the most of every minute. I did and it was wonderful. Whether it was with Nick and Alivia, friends, visitors, a date or by myself , I was doing something, somewhere in that incredibly diverse city. I will make the same commitment in the next city I settle in, but I’m not convinced any other city can really live up to London. I will try though.

I’m scared of so much. Leaving my company which has been so good to me for the last 15 years. It’s been home and my colleagues have been my extended family. I grew up there. And I was able to support my son and feel secure in my role there. I wonder if I’m crazy to leave, but deep down I know I’m doing the right thing.

I’m also scared of going back to my house. Dread is more like it. I don’t want to live there any more. As many good memories, there are just as many bad. I just want to sell it and be done with it, although I know it’s not that easy and I have to be sensible too. For now I have to go back there.

And I feel guilty. I know it’s silly. (Crap, just thinking about this has caused the tears to start flowing again. And I can tell some of my fellow passengers have noticed. Hopefully they’ll keep ignoring me. I’m pretty sure they will. Oh – a little girl is watching me. Sorry sweetie. I’ll try to stop. I just have to get through writing this.) So I know it’s silly, but I feel guilty about this road trip. For so many reasons. Mostly to do with Nick, of course. As people make such a big deal about my starting my new life, I wonder if deep down he feels like I’m abandoning him. Like I’m happy to be without him. No, no, no! I’d love to continue our London life together, but know he has to go to university. I have to let him grow up. And that leaves me home alone. (No, I won’t let him live at home. I think living in a dorm is so important and something I never got to do – I don’t want him to miss out on that experience.) So that leaves me at home alone. So back to the beginning – me, alone, so why be at home at all?

I also feel guilty doing the road trip because I’ll be unemployed and unable to spoil him like I have in the past. I know he’d rather I stay where I am but I just can’t. I need a new challenge. A new start. I know it, but that doesn’t stop me from second guessing myself.

So I’m now an hour and a half away from landing back home. Yes, I will leave my job, my last day is just a month away. And yes, Nick will go to Salem State just a few weeks later. And once he’s settled, I’ll be on the road. I can do this, I can get through it all. (deep breaths) I am strong. I may cry a lot about it now, but as soon as this plane hits the Logan runway and I get in the car, drive down the highway and see the Pru, Fenway or the National Grid gas tank (depending on the route we take), I will have the biggest smile on my face. And then seeing everyone I have missed so much – I feel so much better just thinking about it. Come on pilot, fly faster! I’m done with the tears and ready to be home!

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Every day I count down. How many weeks until we move home, how many months until the road trip. I have so many things to look forward to. But I also don’t want to live for the future – I need to make the most of today. Appreciate every moment. And that’s what I did today.

Today was the most wonderful, sunny day (a miracle, my friend Fiona says, to have sun in London especially with Wimbledon going on). I slept in (love Saturdays) and was awoken at 11 by a text from Nick who had spent the night at Alivias. I met him for lunch in Sloane Square where we spent much of the time debating what cars to buy when we get back to the US. We don’t exactly agree on what constitutes a good road trip car; he has some good ideas, but many are out of my price range. (Think I’ll save the pros and cons of road trip cars for another blog – it could be a long one!) We also made a long-distance toast to our cousin Nate and his high school sweetheart Beth as they are getting married today – so wish we could have been there!

After lunch, Nick joined me on my quest to find Manolo Blahnik‘s original shop – one of the things on my list of things to do before leaving London. We walked and walked and walked. (Something I love about London – you can pretty much walk anywhere if you want to.) It is off the beaten path, with a very understated exterior, and you have to ring the doorbell to be admitted. His shoes are works of art and it is clear he is an admirer of architecture. I held the Carrie shoes from the SATC movie, but I didn’t see any that whispered my name. And for those prices, shoes would have to be screaming my full name over and over and over to even be considered!

We spent most of the rest of the day at Harrods ‘once a year sale.’ I love bonding time with my son, but my pocketbook is a bit worse for the wear. (I should’ve bought a new one!) I actually did look for things for me but every piece of clothing or pair of shoes I liked I discarded as none were things you’d wear on a road trip. Oh well, at least the road trip is helping my purse in a way! (The little voice in my head reminding me that in a few months I won’t have a job also helped – if only it would talk to Nick too!)

I have to say that Harrods is the most wonderful store – truly one of a kind. If you go to London, make sure you allow time to wander Harrods. Every department is a store unto itself – and anything you can think to buy from a bone for your dog to a big screen TV, from a mattress to a mango – it’s all there. The food hall is amazing and they have many restaurants spread throughout the store: from Lebanese to Italian, from a diner to a Georgian restaurant. And make sure you go all the way up the central Egyptian escalator, looking all around – especially up. It’s like being in a museum. Finally, at the bottom of that escalator, on the lower ground floor, you’ll find the memorial to Princess Diana and Dodi. There are always tourists crowding around taking pictures.

That’s another thing I’m doing – playing tourist with my camera. I don’t want to forget anything about our time in London. And the photos will help me remember. I know, I know, those who know me well know that I am hardly without my camera anyway, but now I’m not just taking pictures of the special or unusual things, I am taking pictures of every day life in London. The flowers in St. James Park. The 88 Bus. The guards with their machine guns. The people of London who would stand out anywhere else, but somehow blend in here, in this fabulous big city with a little town feel, where you can close your eyes and hear several different languages being spoken all around you. It’s everyone’s hometown. I will truly miss it. And that’s why I’m going to try to continue to appreciate every minute we have left here. It’s going to be so hard to leave, although I am so happy to be going home …

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The strangest things are making me long for the US. Case in point: The Last Song. After I saw the movie (it was ok – book was much better; which is funny because I liked the movie Dear John better than the book, at least the end anyway), I exited the theatre into Leicester Square and made my way home through Trafalgar Square, wandering toward Big Ben and Westminster Abbey. Rather than the thrill I usually feel for getting to live in such an amazing city, I was struck by the thought that something’s terribly wrong – I’m in the wrong country. How did this happen? Where am I? What am I doing? I don’t belong here. I belong in the world I was just living in for the last two hours (107 minutes) where there are open roads, pick-up trucks, good music, plaid shirts and family – my family. For the longest time I thought that England could be home, but I’ve realised, oops, I mean realized I belong in America. Right there, on the dark streets of London, I had a mini-panic attack. Heart racing, short of breath, disoriented … then I saw him: Abraham Lincoln! Don’t worry, I wasn’t seeing things – it was just his statue in Parliament Square – but I immediately felt better. (He always has that affect on me.) I reminded myself that I DID have a reason to be here (work) and there are only about two months left before Nick and I move back to Massachusetts. But what then? Second mini-panic attack? No need, I have a plan: unpack, finish work, get Nick off to college and then: ROAD TRIP! And there will be plenty of open roads, pick-up trucks, good music, plaid shirts and family!

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