Flight

I leave for Israel tomorrow morning.  I made the reservations for Eliza and myself so long ago, it's hard for me to believe the time to travel is actually here.  The flight from JFK to Tel Aviv is 12 hours and 40 minutes.  That's 12 hours and 40 minutes alone with my energetic, feisty, tempestuous daughter.  I know I won't be "alone," rather I'll be crammed on top of several hundred strangers, all of us desperate for quiet.  I expect Eliza will finally pass out from sheer exhaustion about two hours before we arrive in Tel Aviv.  That'll make for a fun first day.

I have to keep reminding myself of the end result, Meredith and David waiting on the other side of customs with open arms.  It's been nearly a year since I've seen them.  I wonder; have they changed?  Will I seem different?  Will Meredith still feel like the other half of my apple?  Will the kids show any excitement upon seeing me?

I'm afraid too because it's Israel, a place I was never excited about visiting.  Tonight I had to assure Christophe's son that it's safe where my friends live, that Eliza and I will be okay.  But of course, I'm nervous.  And yet, still excited to see my great friends in another place, another time.  Their oldest son is celebrating his Bar Mitzvah.  This is an event we've all anticipated since he was born in 1995.  

I also may be taking a flight of a different sort when we return in Mid-May.  I can't reveal too much but let's say I looked at apartments a few days ago and found something I really, really liked!