Que Sera Sara?

Bean’s visa was approved last week.

We left the Embassy and, after a celebratory pitstop in the decadent Selfridges Food Hall, we boarded a river cruise down the Thames. Saying goodbye to London and landing at Greenwich — ground zero; the place where time began — to watch the sunset. Fitting for the beginning of a new adventure I think.

Next week we get on a one-way journey to start a new life in America.

We have nothing there but my family: no job, no home, little money to speak of. It feels rather old fashioned and dangerous to strike out into the New World with nothing to lose.

In one month, we will be married on the shores of Lake Michigan with a wedding which is rather a lot like the one we dreamt of, if slightly haphazard in the planning.

Even on short notice, friends and family from across the globe are making the pilgrimage to share it with us, and that means more than any flowers or gift registries ever could.

There is so much to feel, so much to process.

While I would normally find refuge in sorting out my thoughts in complicated, wordpress-ready sentences, I’m too chaotic a jumble just now to open that particular can of public worms.

I might need to retreat for a little while.

I could quite easily fill my days and thoughts with beach trips, castle excursions, poetry and stories.

But right now I don’t want to live anyone else’s story but my own. My heart doesn’t have room for everything.

As all my outward adventures come to a close, soon to be replaced by new ones of a different stripe, it’s time to look in. And find out what of me is getting packed in that suitcase and what of me is staying behind.