I’m sitting in the CDG waiting for my plane to begin boarding. I am tired. I am happy and I am sad. I feel like this trip has been far too rushed but I also feel relieved to have accomplished what I set out to do. I have begun the process of purchasing a house and I found a house that I love. I have learned a great deal and I have started to get a lay of the land that surrounds my new home. My French is atrocious but it is growing. My excitement and passion for my dream to live abroad have grown exponentially.

I am filled to the gills with bread, butter, cheese, and wine yet I think I have moved enough to not have to buy new pants. I have stayed up later than normal and driven thousands of miles. I have built a growing tolerance for wine at the midday meal, learned to nap almost instantly, ran often, and met new friends. I have managed to relax during a top-speed, jam-packed adventure.

The week was made more beautiful by my ability to share it with an old friend and college roommate, Tori. She made me laugh, she praised my driving at each roundabout “Good job, Sarah!”, she drank more wine than she wanted, she encouraged me, and she joined me in developing a love for this place. Friends like Tori are few and far between. She is optimistic, and loving and open in a way that I have never known another to be. We laugh at ourselves as we approach this midway point. We are still somehow the girls laughing and eating pizza at midnight in Parker Hall but find ourselves somehow at middle age, facing empty nests, new beginnings and menopause. We are sore when we climb out of a car but more disciplined in our exercise and wear smaller pants. What a gift that we have reconnected and shared this new adventure. I think Tori fell in love with France and I would not be at all surprised if she ends up purchasing there too. There is not a cheese plate to compare across the world and I think she has found her future home.

So now I return and I can see my sweet family, loving husband, and tiny dog. I have missed them all and worry that I will not be able to manage the more lengthy separations that I will face in the future. I will try. I somehow feel I have to. All change is scary and this is no different. My relationships are strong and I feel like we can all grow in this next step. For now, I will savor the summer in Maine. I will move house and begin the arduous task of collecting and preparing all the paperwork for my French transition.

The purchase of a house requires copies of birth certificates for my entire family, my marriage certificate, my divorce decree, passports, proof or residence, utility bills, past years’ tax forms and proof of funds. The French are famous for their bureaucracy and love of paperwork. I will arrange multiple copies of passport photos, the completed visa application, a transfer of currency and the opening of a bank account. I will plan what to place in a shipping container and what to leave in Maine. I will work, I will have visits with my brothers, cousins, and friends. I will eat lobster. I will lay at the beach. I will go to the Red Sox. I will be busy and hopeful and take one step at a time. September will come soon and I will continue being Sarah.