Day One Hundred Fifteen, May 17, 2011

Lea in her Uighur hat behind a gauze curtain

It is when you are far away from the thing that you love that you value it and miss it the most. As each trip that I take alone comes to a close, I feel a very strong tug and a yearning to see, smell, kiss, talk to and be with Lea. The last day is a countdown of the minutes and seconds till I see her again. This time she was asleep when I arrived, so I had to wait till the next day to exchange stories with her about the week, to freak out about her cutting her own hair right in the front of her head, to give her the hats and other local keepsakes that I brought back with me from what she keeps calling “high mountains” and to then resume my role as the keeper of the disciplines and  balances after her brief unruly time with her father.