“What would you like, sir?” the waiter asked.
“Apple juice, please.” David seemed comically natural while being addressed formally at our first breakfast in London. This was our first time in Europe, and our one-week trip was utterly delightful.
The city was more diverse than I anticipated. Once in a Mediterranean restaurant, each of the five tables around us spoke a different language. The food came in smaller portions but was of higher quality than we were used to. The butternut squash soup was flavorful but not overly sweet; the local store brand short-bread cookies are made from real butter; the pizza from a food court at a botanic garden was cooked in a stone oven. Above all, tea—whether served in the Orangery restaurant at Kensington Palace or at a bookstore coffee shop, came in delicate teapots with matching cups and saucers. How British!
Chris planned the trip having the interests of both the kids and the adults in mind. Thanks to our children’s age and relative maturity, they lasted through walking in the cold, fighting the crowd in the subway, two 75 minute guided tours, a worship service at Westminster Abby, a musical at the West End and grabbing a bite afterwards (at 10 pm). What pleased us was they truly enjoyed those experiences (some more than others) and were actively engaging with questions to the guides and to us.
Better than a museum
Although we didn’t visit any of London’s famous museums, we found a place that transported us to another time, creating an intimate and profound experience. It was C.S. Lewis’ house.
We took a day trip to Oxford and toured C.S. Lewis’ home, where he lived from 1930 until his death in 1963.. Our tour guide was a young woman from Wales who walked us through all the rooms and shared Lewis’ life stories. The anecdotes about Lewis and his brother Warnie, Mrs. Moore, Maureen, and Joy made the tour lively. I knew Lewis as a literary giant through his Narnia series, and marveled at his great mind through his defense of the Christian faith “Mere Christianity”. But I didn’t know he smoked heavily, with his scholarly “buddies”, which left filthy stains on the walls and ashes in the rugs. I didn’t know he took the mother and the sister of his deceased friend from WWI under his wings and treated them as family. I didn’t know he regained his faith on a motorcycle ride to the zoo and described it as waking up from sleep. I didn’t know he held a pipe and sipped on a cup of tea during most of his writing time. All these details being told in that very space made Lewis more human, authentic, and reachable to me.
Through the woods, we walked to a pond right behind Lewis’ house. This is supposed to be the inspiration for the Narnia fantasies. The water was still, reflecting the afternoon sun. Breathing in the crisp winter air and watching my kids play in the mud, I feel my heart grow rich and full.
We made it
My best friend from high school, Rui, traveled from her home in France to London and joined our trip for three days. It has been more than 10 years since we saw each other last. During those years, we each had two children and reached a milestone in our career. With both kids in school and a meaningful yet undemanding job, we finally could arrange this meet up.
Our long-awaited reunion felt calm, as though we had just seen each other yesterday. There were no tears, no emotional hugs, no big updates — just the quiet joy of being together again. While not having met in person for so long, we managed to catch up about each other’s life regularly. Every time we talked on the phone, the conversation was candid and natural. We are used to sharing our triumphs and defeats, and exchanging parenting ideas and reading lists. That might be why our chats on the trip all seemed random, but easy.
The two of us had a few hours for a shopping trip to the Harrods when Chris took the kids to Buckingham Palace. Rui and I got on a bus and decided to chat in French. She is fluent and I am a beginner. That moment felt like a replay of our old days (while we were young) when we used to sit on a bus to school and practice English. Neither of us had cared about the turning heads of other passengers. Our goal at the time was clear and simple. We wanted to master English so we could see the world one day. We spent the following ten years pursuing school work and eventually a degree in the US. The next ten years we were challenged and overwhelmed by the joy and work of starting a family. There were disorientation and confusion, then orientation and balance.
On the last day, we shared breakfast and hugged goodbye. I walked Rui out and watched her turn to the subway direction. The wheels on her luggage made some “tick-tock” noise on the uneven pavement, yet, her steps were light and steady. A warm emotion came up to my throat and then my eyes. But I held back my tears, comforted by the thought that we would meet again soon.
When I grow up
“When I grow up
I will be tall enough to reach the branches
That I need to reach to climb the trees
You get to climb when you’re grown up
And when I grow up
I will be smart enough to answer all
The questions that you need to know
The answers to, before you’re grown up
And when I grow up
I will eat sweets everyday on the way to work
And I will go to bed late every night
And I will wake up
When the sun comes up
And I will watch cartoons until my eyes go square
And I won’t care ’cause I’ll be all grown up”
This is my favorite song in the Musical Matilda. Some kids started singing as they gently swung on the swing sets on the stage. Their high-pitched voices were a great match to the innocent hopes for adulthood. As the music continued and got louder, bigger kids lined up behind and replaced the younger ones on the swings, throwing their bodies up high in the air. Yet, with their maturer voices and bigger frames, they were still singing about eating candies and climbing trees.
This was the moment that wet my eyes.
Like all kids, I looked forward to growing up. Because when I grow up, I will not eat fatty pork and short-rib soup. I will not run and my side won’t hurt. I will fall in love and we will hold hands all the time. I will have a closet that shirts line up by colors and shoes are displayed like treasures. I will go to Paris and Venice, and I will be free like a bird. However, many of the things we wanted are no longer wanted by us. We grow wiser and more mature, and that’s a good thing, isn’t it? So why did I tear up?
I think it is the music, the dancing and the children performing that reminds me that no matter how grown up we are, there is still a kid living inside. We can still be fearless, idealistic and hopeful, dreaming of an unknown future just like we once did.
