So Long, Farewell......

Pressing their noses against the glass, screaming their little heads off, and (much to dismay of the airport workers), pounding their tiny fists against the glass window that specifically proclaims “VEUILLEZ NE PAS TOUCHER”, Benji and Toby bid me farewell. I walked backwards from passport control, nearly toppling many times under the weight of my way too heavy backpack and suitcase, and waved and screamed to them too until they were out of sight.

Then, I cried.

Tears of joy, at these two amazing little people that I would like to think I have affected in a positive way. Happiness at the thought of getting to see my mom, dad and dog in a mere 13 hours. And of course, sadness, at leaving the home, life and people that have become a second family to me over the past year.

I continued to walk, through to security (praying that I wouldn’t get busted for my grossly over-weight-restriction baggage…. I didn’t, WHEW), and onto the hard plastic chairs outside the duty free shop, thinking and wondering and reflecting on where life has taken me, and where it will bring me next.

I came to Geneva able to sum up my emotions in one word: terrified. After a bad senior year where I lost several close friends and even more confidence in myself, I wondered if my experience as an au pair would be doomed to fail. The trying first months, working 13 hours a day, Michelle as demanding as ever, and Toby telling me he would “take me to the aeroport and send me back to Michigan” whenever things didn’t go exactly his way ( although I am happy to report, when he actually did get to take me to the airport and send me back, he wasn’t gleefully happy about it) made me question if I could do it. Stick out the whole year away from my family, with no friends and kids that don’t seem to care one way or another if I’m there??? I wasn’t sure.

But things began to fall in place. I met Julie, and Mel and a whole gaggle of other “fille au pair’ (yes, we are like a species here in Geneva), and the good times started t roll. Frolicking through the green hills of Switzerland (seriously!), jetting off to exotic destinations every chance we got, running a marathon, sky-diving, and of course the crazy yet wonderful misadventure in Spain and Greece.

The kids warmed up after the first few months too, and now my mind is filled with wonderful memories of all the things we’ve done together. Picnics in the park, building snowmen, dancing like fools to Toby’s favorite Hebrew CD, seeing Benji successfully ride his first two-wheeler….this list could fill pages. I will so dearly miss Benji’s sweet, kind, gentle nature, always complementing me on my hair or clothes, as well as Toby’s Mr. Bossy approach (the other day, after getting out of the pool and my hair having dried in waves, he looked at me, furrowed his brow, wagged his 4-year-old finger at me and ordered, “Meggie. DON’T move your hair. It looks TOO beautiful like that!” I almost fell over laughing, all the while melting on the inside.

But now they’re gone, off to have french fries and pizza as a special treat at their Mummy’s work. Saying goodbye to the boys, to Michelle, and to my life in Geneva has been difficult (no doubt compounded by the pit in my stomach about flying, and not knowing what to do with my life when I get home) was incredibly difficult. Although in this situation, good-bye was the "faux mot", and a much more appropriate expression applies, both because of our physical location in French speaking Switzerland, and to the fact that I know my “good-bye” will be short-lived.

Au revoir, boys. Au revoir, Marc, Michelle and Flora. Au revoir, Geneva.

Until we meet again. Surely, I’ll be seeing you soon.