and thus began the loster family, i know today. the loster family, with its years of joy and growth and grief and beauty. my parents have endured, experienced and survived all life has to offer and created something incredibly lovely. i feel lucky to be a part of it. there have been moments, within my mini-berlin crises, that i remember how much my parents have been through and how whole and loving and full they continue to be, and it makes everything seem possible. it makes me hopeful. it makes me strong. it makes me believe in love.
happy anniversary mom and dad.
i have three or four days left in berlin. today i left my dirty pink suitcase with christian, who has kindly allowed me to store it at his house while i travel. i arrived at the cafe, he looked at it rather critically, said, so this is the suitcase? and laughed. and i laughed. i am not sure what it meant, but it was christian and in that moment i realized i have made a friend in germany. someone i will know always. someone with whom i am comfortable and happy. someone who will roll my pink suitcase down several blocks to his home.
currently remaining in my possession, i have a powder blue backpack, which contains the following: seven tiny dresses, which look like discarded flowery tissues wadded in a pile, one pair of tights, ten pairs of underwear (mostly pink by my estimation), one pair of walking shoes, one pair of sandals, a cardigan, a jacket, a bathing suit, two books, a journal, an assortment of impossibly tiny toiletries, my purse and its indiscernible mess of contents, and a passport. and that is all. i have decided what i don't have i can buy, and what becomes cumbersome, i can discard. i have become wholly unconcerned with things. i have bought practically nothing while i've been here. no trinkets. one dress. one book. i have spent my money on experiences-- museums, boat trips, train rides, meals with friends, drinks near rivers, movies in the open air. articles seem pointless. i do not need a snow globe to remind me of what i've experienced. i have words and memories and photos. and that is enough. i am excited to depart with so few things.
the minute i deposited that suitcase, i felt free. i felt like i could go anywhere. and i will.
in less than 48 hours, thomas will be here. we are planning to go to prague, amsterdam and then paris. he needs to leave me earlier than i expected, which created an initial panic and which i've now embraced. i am thinking of going to london to stay with rebecca. from london i will maybe travel back through germany, stopping in munich, then head further south to rome and by the 10th end up in sicily to see my beloved kate. while i'm sure those plans will change daily, if not moment by moment, i am learning to embrace life's surprises while still trying to keep some amount of foresight.
these past few days i have felt amazingly calm. i don't feel like i have to assert that i am okay, i just feel it. i have been content to read and rest and have simple, lovely evenings. i went out last night, but it didn't feel frantic. i didn't feel like i had to have the most insane time or the best time or anything else, and consequently i did. and when i was tired, i went home. i did not worry i was missing out on something.
i admit i am nervous to leave berlin. i am comfortable and safe here. i know people. i can navigate, i speak the language. when i walk down simon-dach strasse i regularly say hello to several people i see daily. i have made a home. and yet i guess i am learning that home can be anywhere. home is my ability to connect with people and places, however brief or long, however intimate or superficial. home is when i give myself to where i am and what i have and stop wishing for something else. home is when i love and let myself be loved. by all of life. home can be anywhere or anything, if you let it. if you let it. if you let go.
and realize how close that can bring you to things.
i feel nice. i feel lucky.
i most certainly do.
