I am still looking for autumn signs outside my window. I think it is a meagre attempt to deal with the horrible homesickness that overpowers me. So I try to mask it by doing autumn crafts with Maya and searching the shops for fabric fall leaves. Till now, no luck. The weather is a bit colder, though. The sea is in the process of changing its colors, and I survive, taking one then in front of the other.
The good days are the ones when Maya is happy and healthy, the bad days, when she is sick and miserable. My rhythm is tuned to her body and soul. At night, I place my palm of her back, or her tummy, to feel her breathing. There aren't many things in my life at the moment. I struggle to write, and it is awfully difficult, as I write only at night, and after spending a day with Maya I am usually so tired I cannot concentrate. My husband tells me there is time, why hurry, but I know it is not true. The time is precious and I mustn't waste it. And there are these words and feelings inside me and I have to set them free. For myself, for my past and for the right to live my remaining days at peace with living an expat's life.
I try to create my own reality, in the end, it is what counts...I won't put on a false identity just for the sake of blending in. I don't want to be different, but this is who I am and if I am to be judged, so be it, I don't care. I feel like I have this tiny device inside my heart that reminds me of who I am, and nudges me to keep on going and tells me stories about hope and finding the beauty in everydays things, no matter how hard it seems to be...
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