Today is Mother's Day. After my fifth attempt of trying to contact my mother through Skype I finally called it quits. On days like these It's hard to be content here.
I wish that I could drive to Birmingham and give her a hug and flowers, but I know that I can't do that and I know that it's wishful thinking. I also know that it means I would be in Birmingham and not in Brazil. I don't want that yet.
I am perfectly aware of my situation, but that does not keep me rational.
Nothing would, I don't think.
I have recently picked up a book (in english) that is titled "eat, pray,love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. I have been completely surprised by how much I enjoy reading it. The book is about a woman in her thirties who is traveling the world to escape the inevitable-- life. She is a very honest narrator. I love her for the same reasons that I loved Holden Caulfield when I first read "The Catcher and The Rye" at 15. She tells her truth about what it feels like to travel. How it sometimes feels like your heart will explode from joy and pain simultaneously and how you miss everything and absolutely nothing at the same time
It's a tug-a-war. always.
"I am loyal and constant in my love for travel, as I have not always been loyal and constant in my other loves. I feel about travel the way a happy new mother feels about her impossible, colicky, restless newborn baby--I just don't care what it puts me through. Because I adore it. Because it's mine. Because it looks exactly like me..."
-Elizabeth Gilbert (eat, pray, love)
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