We got back today, after a long and tiring flight. None of us had much sleep on the plane, so no surprise we are getting ready to bed at 6pm – Laura is already fast asleep.
These holidays were extremely short. The weather was nice, but it got bad towards the end of the trip and as we were leaving it got better again, even better than when we got there.
Holidays to visit family are always a bit weird. It’s not really proper holidays, as we don’t do and see much, but we have lots of pair of hands to look after the little one, which is a bonus. I love to see how Laura was so adapted to the climate, the people, the fun. I wouldn’t say she particularly loved the food in general (she loved pastel and pao de queijo (she wouldn’t be my daughter if she didn’t love it), but didn’t eat much else – maybe it warmer temperature reduced her appetite? Also great to see that everybody loves her. It’s true that people normally love children in general, especially around this age, and they particularly love the kids of their own family, for obvious reasons. But I could see that friends and family were really enjoying Laura and her great mood and all the funny things she says and do – not because she is my daughter, but because of her personality.
Mr. C. managed to fish and visit Buzios, and also worked a lot on his new business. He also spoke lots of Portuguese with the family. And ate loads! Unfortunately for him, the trip is not more enjoyable because of the language barrier.
As for me, I always like to rest as much as I can when I visit my parents. I barely do anything, include thinking. This particular trip was slightly different, because it was my dad’s 70th and he hasn’t been very well. My mum also is not in her best shape. I don’t like to talk and think about these things, but since I turned 30, I started noticing more the people around me and although I want to deny as much as possible, it’s not just me getting older. It kind of depresses me that my parents are getting older and older and soon won’t be as energetic as they are now. I know nobody is ready to lose a loved one, even if they are older and are meant to go before you, but in my case, I’m sure I won’t handle this very well. Actually, I’m sure I’ll be pretty in deep shit.
Hmmmm, this post if becoming a bit depressing, isn’t it? I’m sorry, but returning to London didn’t go down as well as I thought. If before I used to think “why am I here?”, now the feeling is that I am a prisoner of this place and there’s nothing I can do (well, nothing good at least) to get out of it. Very depressing, I know. It will be even worse tomorrow, when I go back to work, which I am NOT looking forward at all.