The other me is the one who didn’t get back together with her boyfriend (we’ve been married 14 yrs), who didn’t move abroad and C stayed in my home town, who didn’t have kids… All these other potential mes!
Beautiful writing Esther as always. Kids really do surprise us (and make us wet our pants with fear in equal measure). Sounds like you both came away from this trip learning something about yourselves.
I've just come back from a trip alone to Portugal... I've been dogged with this virus that is repeatedly doing the rounds for about seven weeks! It has been dreadful, depressing and compounded by rain... ever yet... more rain. Le sigh!
So, it was wonderful to basically behave like my teens for a week. I got up late, someone fixed my meals, I watched Netflix and read excellent books. (The best was 'I feel bad about my neck" by Nora Ephron - read it. It will bring such joy!). The family survived back home and I was reminded that, by holidaying alone, I was responsible again for only myself. I drove on the 'wrong' side of the road and realised that I hadn't really had to do that in eighteen years of marriage (and family holidays). It just pricked my conscience that small skills need to be kept alive or else we become people who doing turn left out of the drive because we don't like the roundabout. Lol. ....and I had TIME... time to think about me, what I like and don't, what I want to do... to be utterly selfish for a while.
It may sound daft (and I'm all for sounding that) but as my teens grow and inevitably head towards departure of the family home as independent beings, I am realising that my freedoms are coming back and my sleepless nights are increasing. :). All part of that journey of life and a life I chose...
My youngest, a child who is afraid of noises, has the sure-footedness of a mountain goat. He flinches every time a motobike goes past on the dual carriageway, half a mile away, but get him on a cliff edge and he's off.
Such evocative and vivid writing Esther, I loved reading this.
I don’t regret much in my life so far, but I do wish I’d been braver and travelled more.
I am facing a life fear today though, I’m currently in the USA, and I’m making myself drive on the right hand side. Also going to get the train to NYC tomorrow on my own.
It’s out of my comfort zone which is exactly why I’ve got to do it. These are the things that the other me would do 🙏🏻
What a beautiful read. It's lovely to see a child have an experience that you know will stick with them. Such as learning you can be pale and fragile AND be surprisingly capable in a desert setting, actually.
When I was 28 in 1990 I hitchhiked solo around the southern African countries that were considered "easy" by the western vagabond brigade: Zimbabwe, South Africa down to Transkei, Swaziland, Malawi. My friend Cynthia subsequently warned me to "Never, ever tell a man you're interested in about that or you'll emasculate him and he'll run." To be fair to Cynthia, when recently reminded of said advice she was appalled. How great the chances of Kitty being advised to hide her bravado under a barrel have vastly diminished ... So a story about an other me I was warned to feign being (but never was). P.S. I am at this point dumbfounded by younger me's moxy.
You write so vividly and so compactly, all details in my mind’s eye. I can see Kitty’s walk to the can, the sudden correction to her direction, the clenched fist, the elbows jutting out over the handlebars, all brilliant images.
This is wonderful and Kitty’s experience sounds like the start of a film I would definitely watch.
I sort of have another me, inasmuch as I am no longer the terrified girl who was too afraid to stop at a burger van when starving (in case they were mean to me? That must have been why) but am now a fifty year old woman who is quite happy to go off to the scrapyard with a bootful of old crap and say blithely to the helpful chap explaining what I need to do , ‘Yes, yes, I’ve been several times already, I know what I’m doing’. Still fucking terrified of motorbikes in any guise though.
The other me is the one who didn’t get back together with her boyfriend (we’ve been married 14 yrs), who didn’t move abroad and C stayed in my home town, who didn’t have kids… All these other potential mes!
Beautiful xx
Beautiful writing Esther as always. Kids really do surprise us (and make us wet our pants with fear in equal measure). Sounds like you both came away from this trip learning something about yourselves.
I've just come back from a trip alone to Portugal... I've been dogged with this virus that is repeatedly doing the rounds for about seven weeks! It has been dreadful, depressing and compounded by rain... ever yet... more rain. Le sigh!
So, it was wonderful to basically behave like my teens for a week. I got up late, someone fixed my meals, I watched Netflix and read excellent books. (The best was 'I feel bad about my neck" by Nora Ephron - read it. It will bring such joy!). The family survived back home and I was reminded that, by holidaying alone, I was responsible again for only myself. I drove on the 'wrong' side of the road and realised that I hadn't really had to do that in eighteen years of marriage (and family holidays). It just pricked my conscience that small skills need to be kept alive or else we become people who doing turn left out of the drive because we don't like the roundabout. Lol. ....and I had TIME... time to think about me, what I like and don't, what I want to do... to be utterly selfish for a while.
It may sound daft (and I'm all for sounding that) but as my teens grow and inevitably head towards departure of the family home as independent beings, I am realising that my freedoms are coming back and my sleepless nights are increasing. :). All part of that journey of life and a life I chose...
Esther
I love your writing and look forward to it whenever it comes- sometimes I miss it and wonder if you’re ok 💕
I love how our children continue to surprise us, and remind us who they are, in equal measure..
The other me also lives on a different continent..
Really nice piece about you and your fam in a wonderful continent..
So good Esther:)
My youngest, a child who is afraid of noises, has the sure-footedness of a mountain goat. He flinches every time a motobike goes past on the dual carriageway, half a mile away, but get him on a cliff edge and he's off.
These children, they contain multitudes.
Just 🩷
Such evocative and vivid writing Esther, I loved reading this.
I don’t regret much in my life so far, but I do wish I’d been braver and travelled more.
I am facing a life fear today though, I’m currently in the USA, and I’m making myself drive on the right hand side. Also going to get the train to NYC tomorrow on my own.
It’s out of my comfort zone which is exactly why I’ve got to do it. These are the things that the other me would do 🙏🏻
What a beautiful read. It's lovely to see a child have an experience that you know will stick with them. Such as learning you can be pale and fragile AND be surprisingly capable in a desert setting, actually.
Beautiful and vivid writing Esther, thank you
When I was 28 in 1990 I hitchhiked solo around the southern African countries that were considered "easy" by the western vagabond brigade: Zimbabwe, South Africa down to Transkei, Swaziland, Malawi. My friend Cynthia subsequently warned me to "Never, ever tell a man you're interested in about that or you'll emasculate him and he'll run." To be fair to Cynthia, when recently reminded of said advice she was appalled. How great the chances of Kitty being advised to hide her bravado under a barrel have vastly diminished ... So a story about an other me I was warned to feign being (but never was). P.S. I am at this point dumbfounded by younger me's moxy.
ahh this chimes with me. I have another me, a sliding doors me that didn't get on that plane at Harare airport in 1984.
You write so vividly and so compactly, all details in my mind’s eye. I can see Kitty’s walk to the can, the sudden correction to her direction, the clenched fist, the elbows jutting out over the handlebars, all brilliant images.
Is Malarone like Toblerone?
This is wonderful and Kitty’s experience sounds like the start of a film I would definitely watch.
I sort of have another me, inasmuch as I am no longer the terrified girl who was too afraid to stop at a burger van when starving (in case they were mean to me? That must have been why) but am now a fifty year old woman who is quite happy to go off to the scrapyard with a bootful of old crap and say blithely to the helpful chap explaining what I need to do , ‘Yes, yes, I’ve been several times already, I know what I’m doing’. Still fucking terrified of motorbikes in any guise though.