I recently wrote about how my husband and I both lost a parent at a young age. The night we met we also learned that we had lost our beloved bubbes within the previous year. Both of us were heartbroken, the wounds still fresh, as we talked about our bubbes in the same way. Our bubbes meant the world to us.
When we traveled to Buenos Aires to visit my husband's family, we discussed going to visit his bubbe's gravesite. On the one hand, Alex did not want to deal with the emotional buzzkill, but on the other, he wanted to pay his respects. Nevertheless, the fact that the cemetery was a major schlep convinced us not to go.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
We expected France to be the highlight of our three-week marathon through Europe. We were supposed to spend six relaxing days at a B&B in the South of France to recharge after our hectic week in Britain and prepare ourselves for the breakneck pace of the week ahead in Spain. But it didn't quite turn out that way.