Two Of Us

I've always had this title put aside for the blog announcing our return home from Asia. As it turns out, home as we used to know it is elusive. "Two Of Us" is a Beatles song, some say about Paul and Linda, some about Paul and John. I don't understand the meaning behind all the lyrics, but I understand the feeling behind them. It's about two of us bound together on a journey. It's about home being wherever and whenever the two of us are with each other. Two of us drawing our own lines on the map, at our own pace.

Two of us riding nowhere
Spending someone's
Hard earned pay
You and me Sunday driving
Not arriving
On our way back home
We're on our way home
We're on our way home
We're going home

Two of us sending postcards
Writing letters
On my wall
You and me burning matches
Lifting latches
On our way back home
We're on our way home
We're on our way home
We're going home

You and I have memories
Longer than the road that stretches out ahead...

This blog has always been our postcard, our written letter. Today it reads:

Weather is hot.

Having a great time. Wish you were here.

Great news, we're having a baby!

If you're still a regular reader of the blog or if you've seen or heard from us in the last several weeks, then you already know, but it still seemed right to make the written announcement. Now you see why the title itself, "Two Of Us," no longer fits, no matter where we may find ourselves on the map. Where we call home next, there will be three of us. Paul and I met over twenty years ago. He and I have memories, indeed. This month we'll be celebrating our tenth wedding anniversary, and in January we'll be celebrating the arrival of our baby. A tiny American expatriate in Singapore. And we really are having a great time. And we do wish you were here.

Some time last year, we were walking home from dinner (probably pizza) one Sunday evening. At the crosswalk on our street a man was walking with a little girl of about four years old. Trailing her father, the girl was pulling a small suitcase along on its wheels across the street. Partly to her father and partly to herself she said, "I love dragging this thing around." A smile I couldn't help spread across my face when I caught her musing. Maybe it was the sight of a girl appreciating a new accessory; maybe it was the recognition of a girl who felt safe walking alongside her daddy; maybe my heart nearly burst for a child's enthusiasm for journeys ahead, and I felt lucky to be a witness to her joy.

Now I wonder, what will we pass along to our future son or daughter? A yearning for exploration? Appreciation of The Beatles? A hankering for pizza? Two of us and time will tell.