Breaking from the Routine

They left today. The house is empty. There were a few tears today, but also a lot of love. My neglected blog is overdue for a post or maybe a few posts. The next few posts will compile my experience over the past few days.

I woke early. I knew there was no possibility of going back to sleep. I made coffee and cleaned my house. Cleaning the house was difficult. I’d already done it and there was no dirt anywhere. Thankfully, making coffee made a small mess that required clean-up. I just needed to keep busy until they came. They would be here at 2:00.

Promptly, at 1:15 I headed out the door and walked up the path to the bus stop. I waited for a few minutes until the Vieux Fort Bus stopped. I opened the door, climbed in the seat and asked the driver to stop at the Hewanorra Airport. He stopped and I handed him the $3EC required for the ride. I walked up to the arrival gate. As I waited, every taxi driver asked me if they could drive me somewhere. I will always look like a tourist here. I picked one of the drivers and negotiated a fee; then I waited some more.

As instructed by the sign above, I stood behind the line . . . waiting. People came through the doors one at a time. Finally, I saw one and then the other. Two of my sons were here. We are so close and it’s been hard to have our family separated. I made a drastic departure from the rule-bound perfect little person behind the barrier and ran around it to the forbidden territory for a sandwich hug.

While we exchanged words and talked about what we would be doing and how nice it was to be together, the taxi driver took charge and loaded their bags into his car.

For the next several days we would cook together, see the sights, visit my new friends and I would teach them things I learned about the country. They vowed to teach me how to eat. My steady diet of peanut butter sandwiches is not a well-kept secret. We explored beyond the beaches of Saint Lucia to the shores of Martinique and Dominica.

I will post our travels in a series over the next days. Oh, by the way, I brought Flat Erika to the airport. My sons brought Flat Autumn, Erika’s sister with them. So, as I tell the story of our fabulous visit, you will likely see our flat friends hidden, not so discretely, in many of the pictures I will post over the next few days.