Hey there! These past couple of weeks have been a whirlwind, a real mixtape of emotions and events. Week 8 unfolded with Grandpa nursing a bruised heart and once-robust vineyard thanks to a rampaging hailstorm that wrecked it. Meanwhile, half the clan bid adieu and jetted back to Hong Kong, leaving a trail of both laughter and quietude. Work, as usual, threw its curveballs, just to keep things interesting. And then came Week 9, a chapter of partings and reunions. I dropped off our youngest to rule the roost with the grandparents and zoomed back to the sun-soaked arms of Dalmatia.
July had one last showstopper in store—a hail encore that turned promising vineyard into a leafy battleground. Tomatoes, zucchinis, cucumbers and cabbages joined the fray, courtesy of Mother Nature's stormy tantrum. In the midst of the chaos, Grandpa and Grandma's crestfallen expressions were like characters in an epic tragedy—Nature: 1, Humans: 0.
But it's not all doom and gloom! Croatia's celebratory spirit refuses to be dimmed. Even amidst the chaos of nature's fury and Slovenia's unprecedented floods, extended family arrived on our doorstep, traversing borders to congregate. In this joyful assembly, a succulent roasted pig took center stage, and for two days, laughter and camaraderie flowed unabated. A proper send-off for our Hong Kong-bound half.
We raised our glasses to our fearless high school entrant, our daughter. Someone get me a tissue!
And then came the big questions—why the separation? Why am I missing out on these precious moments? A quick peek at my notes revealed the master plan: house projects to conquer, Mato's Croatian prowess to amplify, some heart-to-heart time with Mom, and, oh yes, the family farm legacy in the making. Suddenly, it all made sense.
With half the gang gone, I dove into work like a marathon runner at the starting line. My little vineyard office beckoned, but the call of duty rang louder—Mom's loneliness needed quelling. Lesson learned: solitude is great, but company is golden, especially for the golden years. A deep well of gratitude for my sister and her steadfast presence by Mom's side swelled, a reassuring beacon in my absence.
Hold up, here I go again, hitting the road with a work table, chair, and monitor in tow. Red house, here I come! And let's not forget, I left behind my young prince to hold court at the grandparents' castle. As I cruised the highways, I couldn't help but feel like life was playing a fast-paced game of catch-up. The joy my mom showed when she saw me was all worth it. We toped it up with 77th birthday bash as the perfect antidote for her bout of solitude blues.
In the midst of this chaotic symphony, one constant shines—time keeps marching on and there are things we can't control. And as I scribble these thoughts down, I can't help but smile. We're navigating this dance of solitude and companionship, partings and hellos, acceptance and pain all while trying to keep up with the tempo of the life we want to life, life we design and life that is offered to us.