Elisa facetimes me except it isn’t facetime, it’s a WeChat video call. She wants to see Kobe, our eight month old Beagle. I point the phone at Kobe, Elisa is happy. Kobe doesn’t seem to notice. It is all about the smell for him.
The kids mom took them to Guam for five nights. The kids winter break is five weeks and during that time they typically go on vacation someplace warm either with me or with their mom. A couple of times we’ve gone back to the US. Guam was picked since they’ve never been there, there would be fewer Chinese tourists because a visa is required (although I’m not sure that’s true), and because I went there five years ago.
The pictures start coming in on the Kids group chat. Beach shots. Lover’s leap. The mall. Even Kmart. I remember all of them all. They go snorkeling, which I didn’t do. They go to Tony Romas, which I did do.
When I went to Guam, I went alone for eight days. It was not a happy time. I drove around the island. I did sightseeing. I went to Kmart. I sat in my hotel room. I drank. I ate. I read. I wrote. I was struck by how much it felt like the US. Like Hawaii but a bit worn down. I went to the night market and ate night market things. I watched part of a high school baseball game being played under the lights. I went to the hotel gym. I went to Guam alone but I was not alone the entire time. The day before I left, I signed some papers at a lawyers office. I brought back Guam tee shirts for my kids. I went to coffee shops. I went to Ross. I texted the kids mom that it was done and I cried in the middle of a downtown street.
It seems odd to me now that my kids are enjoying it there. It’s a nice enough place. My time there was about survival. A few other things that made it more than that, more than tolerable, but I’ll save that for another post.