I struggle to believe it’s been over a year already since our trip to New York at the end of October 2015. I often catch my mind wandering in a corner of Central Park or admiring the view on Manhattan’s lights from the top of the Empire State Building. Only recently I finally ordered the print of the 160 selected pictures from the thousand my husband and I took during that epic holiday, for us to go through those images again and again as in a dream, exposed in a lovely photo album that we keep like a coffee table book. That was a trip that will definitively remain in our hearts for ever.
When my younger aunt (who was more like a mother to me) was diagnosed with terminal cancer in September 2011, with a ‘death sentence length’ of 4 to 5 years maximum, I did not think it twice: I took the first Eurostar train with my 3 months old son and my husband accompanying me (as currently in between jobs) and we spent 4 weeks with her in Brittany to encourage her with the first chemo treatments that would have bought us some time. Since then, I would regularly book our ferry tickets and we would visit her twice a year at Easter and Halloween, no matter what, not an hesitation in our minds, not ever a budgeting cut into account.