A trip begins so slowly...

So I sit,and I wait, anxious. A new ountry, and opportunity to create and discover new feelings, thoughts, memories. Mom is waiting. My butt is literally falling asleep. Due to a lack of padding on my seat (the chair, and ass I suppose) and the 6 goddamn hour wait on the runway for our plane to take off really screwed with what was to be the ugly begining to a beautiful trip. Finally we take off, after only 26 hours of consciosness I fade into a mode of temporary hibernation. Luckilly my seat mate was fun. I arrived in Amsterdam (again) to quickly catch my next eg to Frankfurt. Mom is there, mom is waiting, hw do I tell her the news. I don't. I get on the next plane and quickly fall into a peaceful slumber.

Quite content at finally reaching my destination I watch as men bicycle through the airport in Frankfurt. Armed with only pen and cig in hand I write my thoughts as I seek out a meeting with mom that is long overdue. I watch as the daper buisness men walk by in their fine 3 piece suits. The airport, like a morgue reeks with silence. I begin my hunt for my resting place and an ATM.

There she sat, patiently, like only a mother could, waiting, watching, hoping the last of her young made it at the end of a long journey. But she sat unwaivering. Once together we mounted a taxi and were off to concur Frankfurt.

Hearing the German language sends shivers up my spine. I feel nervous and am ver coscienscious of my every move. There is something about their native tongue that takes me for each other when discovering the depths of each others painsback to a time I should have never exerienced. Why do these words that I don't understand suggest such hate and cast such sad shaddows?

Despite all of that, the sqaures are beautiful. Real old trational German architecture, unscathed exscaping the bombs of wwII. Mom and I sat in a touristy little german restaurant splitting a bottle of wint and cigarette after cigarette like old friends reunited. We laughed hard at each other, at life. We cried a little for each other discoving the depth at which each had been hurting in the past year or so. It was refreshing like rain in the desert, comfortable like a robe after a long bath... it felt like home. Rigt there in the midde of Germany...home.

Its not where we live but in who's hearts we haunt.

More to come of Meghan's Euro adventure later. Love yall!