We Miss You, George


This is George. He isn’t our dog, but for about a month’s worth of van-building, Hawaii-going, and surrogate family-having in Walnut Creek, California, he certainly felt like our dog. Every time we walked in the door he barked vigorously and licked ferociously as he nestled his way deep into our hearts — only so that we could leave him behind, not knowing when our paths would cross again.

News flash: George isn’t the only person slash dog we miss. Our travels have gifted us the opportunity to crash into the wonderful lives of friends and family, and every time we depart it feels like we were leaving a little bit of ourselves behind.

I’ve been exhausting a lot of energy recently trying hard to stay in the moment. Focusing on what’s right in front of us at any given time has helped deal with a lifestyle that is completely foreign to everything either of us have known. If you’re ever going to travel for an extended period of time, it’s the only way to maintain your sanity.

However, today I’m looking back at all the wonderful people we’ve seen in the last six months. Today, I’m going to miss you all a little bit.

Those people are the reason we get up in the morning, and in some perfect version of our lives we’d all live together in a closed-off, self-sustaining community where we’d be left to laugh, cry, drink wine, eat food, play Catan, and raise our families together in some kind of glorious utopia.

Of course, life doesn’t work out that way. In fact, I’d argue we need to miss the people and places we love most in order to enjoy them more when we do reunite. Spending time with friends and family is one of the most important things you can do, but as the say, distance makes the heart grow fonder.

I’m sitting here in snowy Strasbourg in amazement of this opportunity and all the great places we’ve seen and still get to see. But, for everything great there is in the world, nothing compares to quality time with people who light you up inside. I’m glad we are where we are, but I can’t fucking wait to get home and be with my people again. Distance, in this case, can’t be shortened soon enough.

So until the next time we get to hold sweet George in our arms and rock his baby body back to sleep, we’ll reserve our right to miss the hell out of him, and everyone else whose company has made our lives worth slowing down to enjoy.

Leave a reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Go top