We flew back to Spain on August 25, on the same flight itinerary that we took one year before.
Iberia, leaving at 4:55pm out of O’Hare, arriving Madrid at 8:20am, leaving Madrid at 11:35am, arriving Sevilla at 12:50.
Last year, we embarked knowing very little about what awaited us on the other side.
This year, we were coming home!
I watched my kids walk through every step of the same journey—only this time leading the way.
In O’Hare, they were like, “Look! It’s the same gate as last year!”
Stepping on the airplane, we gave each other a knowing look when we heard the soothing Spanish guitar background music.
Last fall, Evan created a Spotify playlist of Spanish guitar.
Chloe knew to expect her kids’ meal chocolate cake with a smiley face.
After lots of sad goodbyes with our loved ones in Michigan and Oak Park, we had moments of, “Mama, why do we have to go back to Spain…”
But when the engine did that big revving right before takeoff, all three of us looked at each other with excited eyes.
We remembered.
In Madrid-Barajas airport, we walked the same path, ate at the same café (which I now realized was Santagloria and super familiar from all over Sevilla), and we marveled at how every bite of food is somehow better.
“I missed you,” I murmured to my café con leche.
The parallels diverged when our flight to Sevilla was cancelled minutes before boarding.
The airline provided a 6+-hour bus ride that left a few hours later.
My world travelers took it in stride and we rather enjoyed the trip (which came with internet, power for charging devices, and space for us to curl up and sleep on our own seats). (Yes, I have applied for compensation and hope we can put some euros toward our next trip!)
Pulling into Sevilla and arriving at our own sweet home felt like a miracle compared to last year when we only had suitcases and no place to live.
We right away ran into neighbors and my Spanish didn’t fail me after 6 weeks of English!
I had thought we witnessed the blooming of the bougainvillea at our front gate before leaving in early July, but it apparently kept growing and blooming all summer long.
We slept 14 hours upon arrival.
Then we started wanting to intentionally create traditions based on what we did last year, so we walked to Las Setas for boba.
Another miracle: it’s only around 80 degrees F! (I’ve been dreading the 100+ heat, which is due to return soon…)
I always knew one year wouldn’t be enough, and I was right.
PS! Thanks for reading and I can’t believe I didn’t post since April! I’m sure I’ll document some of it later (Semana Santa, sister’s family visit, Feria, moving to a new apartment, parents’ visit, end-of-the-year school performances, Evan’s 4-day fin-de-curso trip, lots of friends/camps/pool time in the weeks before we left, then our Chicago/Oak Park/Glen Arbor trip over the past 6 weeks). Anyway, my intention is to post more this year because I love writing and sharing this experience and I appreciate that you care to read this far! xoxo!
the solo mama project 