But before I get into that, let me tell you a story. A true story, even. I have four sisters, and we all want to see the world (to varying degrees). About a year ago two of my sisters decided to take a trip together, and then thought it would be nice if we could all go. They wanted to go somewhere non-English, somewhere exotic, like Spain, or Peru. Or Turkey, which is where they ended up going. I say they, because while the rest of my sisters went to Turkey, I didn't. Stupid money. Anyway, my sisters felt bad that I couldn't go, so we came up with the idea of an annual Sister's Trip (which I'm very excited about, by the way). We'll do something that all of us can afford, even if it's just camping for a weekend. As long as we're all together.
So my sisters all went to Turkey for a couple weeks, and they just recently got back. I've been poring over their photos, drinking in all the details, trying to feel like I was there, and perhaps feeling a little sorry for myself. I missed out on what looks like an amazing experience. I don't just mean seeing the Blue Mosque, or swimming in the Med, but being able to do it with my sisters, who I love so much but don't get to see very often.
As I was sitting on my couch, wishing I could have gone, Isabella toddled up to me, excited about a bottle of hand sanitizer she had found. Her face was lit up with a huge smile, and she couldn't wait to share her treasure with me. I looked at her sweet little face- her huge blue eyes, her chubby little cheeks, her melting smile- and I realised (yet again, I've come to this realisation many times, but each time is like the first all over again) just how much I love this adorable, pudgy, giggly girl. Yes, I still wish I could have gone to Turkey with my sisters, and and I'm super excited about our Sister's Trip next summer, but how can I break my heart over not going when Isabella looks at me with those eyes?
It's kind of like in "Anne of Green Gables": Archduke Ferdinand had just been assasinated and World War I was about to start, but Anne's baby had just said her first word, and somehow such faraway events didn't carry the same import they once had.
What can I say? I'm hopelessly in love.
