There are those days when I struggle - struggle with trying to decide what is the right thing.
The right thing for me; the right thing for our family. Whenever I look into the face of my son I wonder if we are doing the right thing by staying in France.
I grew up surrounded by family - cousins, aunts, uncles. I always had that built in system of friends, of support of love. Even now, 30 years later the bonds are still there. I hurt when my family hurts, I share in their joys even from thousands of miles away. When I think to my childhood these are the fond memories that I always remember.
And what have I done, I have stripped this opportunity from my son. Is it fair that he grows up without any family nearby? Is it fair that I'm denying him that relationship with people that share his blood. Will he just grow up, knowing about those "strangers" that he sees once a year that live so far away.
Will he grow up thinking that his grandparents live behind a computer screen. Is it fair to deny him their love, their hugs, their kisses and all of the spoiling that grandparents are supposed to do to their grandchildren?
I struggle with the guilt of living so far away - struggle with how our choices will impact our sons. And now with baby #2, the guilt is doubled.
I am reassured by the fact that at least my sons will always have each other. Reassured by the fact that our family has survived and that we have learned to rely on each other and hopefully that is the right thing. It's at least the right thing for right now.