I didn’t cry.
Which is weird, because I always cry. Ask anyone who knows me…I cry all the time.
But I didn’t cry when the trip was approaching.
I didn’t cry when I was leaving home.
I didn’t cry when I got to Japan or when I was in Japan.
I didn’t cry when I left them there.
And I didn’t cry when I got home.
This morning, I cried. I cried all the tears that I’ve been holding for these past two weeks.
I cried because the distance is real. They are in Japan, and we’re here. Almost 24 hours worth of traveling door to door. So many hours apart in our days.
My heart aches now for my little broken family, for the ocean and land that separates us, for the realities that come between us.
I was brave for as long as I could stand it, but it hurts just as much as it did when they first left, when I realized that my everyday – my constants – were going away for good.
For years now, we’ve prayed for some way to bring us all back together, to bring back the different pieces of our family so that we can be whole again.
We’re still praying.
We’ll keep praying.
I love you.