Today the Princess went to her forever-family. I haven't talked about her here - privacy concerns and all - but my parents are foster parents, and Resident Princess is one of the many babies that have come and gone through all my younger years, and now again. She was part of our family for nearly a year, and has a giggle of delight that could melt stone.
Her new family is wonderful. We got to meet them. But last night, when I waved bye-bye and she unexpectedly cried - yeah - I cried too.
So there's that.
And ... normally this is the time of year when I'd be pulling out suitcases to head to Ukraine. I'd be wondering what on earth I was thinking, because I'd have too much to do to get ready. And I wouldn't care, because I would know from experience that this side of the world carries on just fine without me, whether or not I get everything done before going to that side of the world. I'd be dancing with delight inside, thinking of the friends I would see soon, the villages, Krivoy Rog, Kyiv ... I'd look forward to the every-time moment as the plane lands in Borispol, and I whisper, "I'm home."
Every. Single. Time.
But not this year. Couldn't make it work, and it wasn't for a lack of trying. I know it was the right decision.
But still ....
Sigh.
I miss Ukraine. And I miss the Resident Princess.
And it's a very good thing I don't listen to country music.
