I’ll be home in Taiwan with Drusus and Jace in two sleeps and an awake. It’s been a year since my family was last together, and I’ve counted the days.
I struggle with time apart—not because I fail to appreciate where I am or who I’m with, but because even in the best moments, I feel the absence of those not there. It’s a strange contradiction—being fully present yet carrying the quiet ache of missing someone.
This is the reality of a life stretched across borders and time zones. The joy of reunion is always shadowed by the inevitability of separation. And while I wouldn’t trade the experiences I’ve had, I won’t pretend the distance is easy.
But gratitude carries me. I’m grateful for my family’s patience and for the understanding that love isn’t measured in miles but in presence—whenever we can have it. I’m appreciative of the life I get to live, including the struggles.
As I prepare to board another flight, I wonder how you balance being present with missing those who aren’t with you.
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