Posted in Travel

Suddenly, I was back

If I could make a wish list of bloggers who I would love to meet in person one day, my beautiful friend Megan, of Best of Fates, would be high up on my list.

Megan has a quirky, off-beat sense of humor that I just love. Her blog is filled with silliness, randomness, and fun.  She exudes love for her family and friends.  She’s genuine and real and it is a pleasure to know her.

Thank you for sharing this story with me, Megan.  We really have to figure out a way to meet in person.  BlogHer ’11?  :)

Suddenly, I Was Backby Megan


I feel at peace in the desert.

I love the heat and the dunes and the vast number of stars at night.

Which is just one reason why I moved to Morocco.

I love the cadence of Arabic and the sound of street vendors good natured arguments.

I love the taste of anything cooked in a tajine.

I love eating clustered around a table, being scolded on my improper method of scooping up food with bread.

I love the smell and the noise and vibrancy of Morocco.

I’d spent a summer falling in love with Fes in college, so I never questioned my decision to move to Rabat when the opportunity arose.

I packed up a year’s worth of toiletries, photos of home, and my camera and kissed my parents and friends goodbye at Dulles Airport.

I never imagined I’d be back in a week, my international journey officially over.

A lot happened during that week. Most of it upsetting yet relatively minute and boring when described.

But during that turbulent week I often found myself pausing and thinking what a fool I had been – how silly to have thoughtlessly left a life I loved.

My constant day-dreams of home weren’t of American food or WiFi or walking down the street unmolested.

My idyllic images consisted of sitting on a couch watching television while offhandedly tweeting. Of spending Tuesday nights cooking with my friends and talking about insignificant work drama. Of taking a leisurely bath and reading one of the many books in my oh-so-towering stack. Each, small moments I’d lived without considering its value.

Making awkward small talk with strangers, shrieking when someone startled me at work, missing the stoplight every single morning – soon I missed it all.

Then, suddenly, I was back.

For the first few months after I returned I couldn’t think of my time in Rabat without replaying scenes over and over in my head. Unable to sleep, I’d toss and turn through the night, until over time I thought of it less and less.

But every once in a while I have a bad day and I picture myself in my Moroccan room. I take myself back to those day-dreams of home and I think of how lucky I am to be back, once again living out each small moment.

Now that you’ve gotten just a small taste of who Megan is, head over to Best of Fates for more proof of why she’s so awesome.

I’ve hand-selected some posts to get you started…

To see how generous she is, read about how much time she has been spending with Pursey Galore: Fairy Tales and Sad Endings, Pursey Takes on The Nation’s Capital, Sequins Style, and Pursey Galore Loves the Night Life.  If you’re unfamiliar with Pursey Galore, please read about her at Project Purse and Boots.

For a post that shows just one example of Megan’s kindness, read I’m Scared This Post Is Too Sappy But Assuming You’re Reading This I Decided to Post It Anyway.

For some gorgeous photos with a side of humor, don’t miss Imagine a Beautiful Garden, Then Imagine It Withering Away As I Watch Modern Family.

Want some pearls of wisdom?  I’m still giggling over A Heartfelt Letter to a Married Couple.

Also, be sure to follow Megan on Twitter, where you’ll find some humorous gems…like this one:

Where We Go Isn’t Important

My dear, sweet Katie,

We need to plan a family trip.  Not to see new and fun things.  But simply to stay in a hotel.

When you were a baby, your daddy and I worked to teach you how to sleep on your own.*  I didn’t nurse you to sleep.  We didn’t rock you to sleep.  And in no way was any of that easy for us.

We wanted to hold your tiny body while you slept.

We longed to breathe you in and listen to and memorize your infant noises.

But, we believed then, and still do, that it was more important that you learned how to sleep without us.

We kept you in a bassinet in our room until you were three months old and I would lie awake so many nights, just listening to the sound of your breathing and all of the other strange sounds that tiny babies make.

Moving you to your own room was one of the most heart-wrenching experiences that I’ve had as a mother. I remember placing you in your crib and coming downstairs, video monitor in hand, to watch you sleep.  And while I sat crying and watching you, you just slept.  The only tears that were shed were mine.

Whenever we travel, you sleep with us so that you don’t roll out of bed.  We went away a couple of weeks ago and those middle-of-the-night moments were my favorites of our entire time away.

Your sleeping body is just different than your awake body.  You are still and languorous.  Warm and squishy.  I can just take you in.  I can touch your hair, your cheek, hold you close, and listen to your sleeping sighs.

In those moments, you are my baby again.

I love knowing that you are beside me as I sleep. Opening my eyes in the morning and having you near reminds me of just how amazing this life truly is.

During your grandmother’s final days, we stayed in a hotel for a couple of weeks to be with her. The nights were often all that got us through the painful days.  Breathing you in recharged us, Katie.

There are nights when I would love to climb into your bed and snuggle with you.  But I don’t because I know that, ultimately, it’s not what’s best for you.

So, we need to plan a trip.

Where should we go?  The hotel down the street? Across town?  You pick.

Because, to me, where we go isn’t even remotely important.

I love you,


*Our sleep philosophy was the best choice for our family.  In no way do I believe that it is what’s best for all other families.

About me

Nichole Beaudry @NicholeBeaudry Location: Northern California
Each and every day, I strive to appreciate the wonder, beauty, and whimsy in the small moments, the moments that, when strung together, form a lifetime.
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