I’m finally back in Berlin after the longest travel day I’ve experienced in a long time. While I was on the plane to Paris, I wrote a draft essay about my time in St. Maarten but I realized it was nonsensical and didn’t follow a theme. To some degree, it was a good form of catharsis and an okay stab at a first draft. So here I am, again, attempting to convey my thoughts from some much-needed time away.
If I could bottle up a feeling, it would be the one of walking through the doors in the morning to the people you love, already awake with an empty mug waiting to be filled with your first cup of coffee. Every morning for a week, I woke up to another beautiful sunny day on an island with the people I love in one place, ready to share a cup of coffee together.
Quality time is my number one love language. A good cup of coffee is my second. I’ve always craved and appreciated true quality time with people I care about. I could have been anywhere with them but I was extremely fortunate to be in a familiar place where I find comfort in past memories accompanied by a stunning landscape. It’s hard to explain but it feels like home in a different way. They make anywhere feel like home to me.
When I got off the plane, it felt like opening an oven door. There were wafts of hot air and humidity that remind you exactly where you are. And as I walked through the arrival doors, there they were. A resounding “KENDAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLL” rang out and I let my suitcase go rolling on its own. Seeing them felt like a healing exhale which released the final bit of grief I had been holding on to throughout a year of healing. I hugged each of them so tight and experienced immediate relief from seeing them stand in front of me. This was a moment I had dreamed of for months and it was just as special as I predicted it would be.
We picked up as if no time had passed at all. We shared meals, swam in the ocean, laughed, played pickle ball, walked along the beach, watched movies together and clinked glasses every time we had a drink. I found myself crying throughout the trip but truly from overwhelm of the happy emotions I felt brimming over. I haven’t felt that much joy or happiness consistently since I moved to Germany and it was apparent to me in the safety I felt immediately in their presence.
I could go through the trip day by day but I won’t do that. Instead, I’ll revisit three memories with different people over the course of the trip. Days that I would categorize as perfect in the sense that I felt whole when they ended.
soleil et liberté
Carly and I decided to go to the French side of the island for a different speed. We set our sights on Orient Bay where we could spend the day on the quiet beaches staring out at the sparkling turquoise water. I brought my film camera and a bottle of Prosseco along. Sun bathing topless while drinking cold sparkling wine is a real luxury. Compounded with the company of my best friend beside me, I couldn’t imagine a more pleasant day. We talked about all sorts of things and embraced feeling comfortable in our own skin. I took candid photos of Carly on the beach because she looked so confident and beautiful. She’s come a long way in that regard and in certain moments, it radiates off of her. I hoped to capture that.
I’d look over and see her smiling with her eyes closed. She seemed so peaceful and happy, just like me. We jumped into the ocean when it got too hot and let the day progress as we pleased. Afterwards, we moved over to Grand Case where we went to a floating bar in the middle of the ocean. Feeling a little sun drunk and prosecco tipsy, I laid on the raft and stared back at Grand Case. I remember coming to that pier for the first time when I was 23 and feeling my stomach drop when I looked over the edge knowing I would need to jump. I looked at the restaurants that overlooked the water and remembered getting dressed up and going on a romantic date there. Then I looked back to the bar where Carly was standing with two beers in her hand, swelling with pride. I had tears in my eyes as I laughed and watched her attempt to walk on the floating raft while essentially falling into the water. At times, we sat in silence and others, we talked about whatever came to our minds. Later, the bartender brought us a pizza and we laid together drinking our beers, eating our pizza and watching the planes fly by.
No noise in my head. No overthinking. No beating myself up. Simply enjoying a beautiful day with my best friend.
four decades
Lynn and Rich were celebrating their 40th anniversary this year. To celebrate, we went to a French restaurant that hung over the side of the ocean. We ordered a bottle of wine and cheers’ed to their many years together and the ones to come. Lynn turned to Rich and asked what his favorite decade was of their marriage. They talked about all the good things that have happened to them as a married couple and found themselves unable to pick a particular decade as each one was unique with its own set of pros and cons. They reached for each other’s hand throughout the night and Rich would kiss Lynn on the cheek. At one point, I found myself crying like a faucet. I did my best to conceal my emotions but I had reached a breaking point. As a kid who never saw their parents hold hands, kiss one another or even like each other, it gives me immense hope to see these two love each other in the way they do. I’m inspired by them as people but also as a couple and the family they’ve built. Their optimism in life and particularly finding light in the small things is something I find myself routing my brain to when I’m struggling. When we walked to the car, Rich moved Lynn to the inside of the street—a true gentleman. We got to the car and he opened both Lynn and I’s doors.
I’ve never met two people who I’d very much like to emulate. Their selflessness, patience and unconditional love is that of sainthood. I feel very lucky to pay such close witness to it all these years.
the black cat & golden retriever
We took a sunset cruise and there was wine. . . and lots of rum punch. We listened to music, laughed, talked and watched the island as we sailed along. It was a nice, warm night but I was still tired from my travels the day before. As we rode back to our hotel, I looked at him and he looked at me. I gave him a smile that’s been reserved for him for a decade. One that signals everything I need to say without saying a word. We’ve always been good at communicating through our expressions and particularly our eyes. When things were hard or there weren’t words, we’d press our foreheads together in silence. It was our own way of connecting. He could tell from my smile and eyes that I was hungry and tired. He squeezed my hand to let me know the message was received.
We walked along the dimly lit path to solve my hunger issue. We stopped to talk to each other and I really looked at him. I’ve seen so many versions of him over the years and he’s simultaneously different and the same. For the first time in a year, I saw him again.
We found a place to grab a pizza and the guy working told us our dynamic was interesting. He said labeled me the black cat and him the golden retriever. I’ve never really thought of us that way and I’m not sure I agree but it was an interesting observation from a stranger. We ordered our mushroom pizza and drunkenly carried it to our room. We ate our pizza in bed and found a pack of chips ahoy cookies to eat, too. I laid my head on his chest and looked up at him as he smiled chewing on a cookie. I told him how happy I was to not feel angry or upset anymore. Holding on to anger for a person you love is a horrible feeling. I’ve wanted to release it for quite some time.
back to berlin
And then it was just Lynn, Rich and I. We sat at a beachside bar having our last Carib together. I’m always grateful for the moments I have with just the two of them. We talked about when we’d see each other next, and all the times before. They stood at the gate and the three of us hugged while I sobbed, not wanting to let go. I didn’t want to leave them, not again. They stood at the window until my plane took off and I know in my heart Lynn was still waving knowing I wouldn’t be able to actually see her. That’s the kind of mom she is. She asked two stores in the airport if they carried goldfish so I’d have my favorite snack to take back to Germany with me. I miss them already.
I got back to Berlin without sleeping for nearly 24 hours. I couldn’t even take a nap when I got home. It was sunny and hot outside so I dipped into the Späti for an ice cream. I circled my neighborhood while eating my ice cream sorting through the emotions and feelings I had while also wanting to stretch my legs from all the sitting and traveling I had just done.
I’m grateful to have people in my life who feel like home.
