I've been living back at my parent's house since Friday, reliving glory days and watching movies with my sisters. I'm sleeping in my old bedroom, except this time I have two cats fighting (as in literally fighting--claws, hissing, fur flying) to share the bed with me.
Last night my family all gathered to have a farewell pizza party for me. The Baby Canadian champagne flowed freely, the pizza's oozed with tomato sauce, cheese, and carby comfort, the hockey game blasted in the background, and laughter was the music we danced to.
At the end of the night (even though I swore I wouldn't) I cried as everyone drove away. I'm lucky to have family that gathers to say bon voyage; lucky to have family who will drive hour(s) to say take care.
Tomorrow I will drive with Mom and Dad to Vancouver, where they will help me drag my (super-sized) luggage and cat crates through the airport. And even though they don't really want to, they will give me that last little shove towards the Departures gate, which is really where the adventure begins.
So I have to thank my family, because without their steady encouragement I wouldn't be on the cusp of stepping so far out of my comfort zone I need a GPS just to navigate my life.
Love you guys, to Switzerland and back.
Now, who's going to be the first to visit? And when you come, please bring some Baby Canadian champagne, because I just don't think a $100 bottle of champagne could ever taste as good as that $9 bubbly brew.