Goodbye, Virginia (Part II)

On Saturday, May 16, my husband I had a relaxing morning and afternoon. We went from our “hotel” (otherwise known as DOS temporary corporate housing at Oakwood Falls Church) to my favorite nail salon in Arlington. I’ve been getting my nails done there by the same person since 2006. She has always done a beautiful job, and whether it’s routine or for a special event they’re always perfect.

I know it’s kind of 90s of me, but I love me some gel nails.

Then we headed to one of our favorite DC celebratory spots – the always-tasty Lauriol Plaza. I have a feeling it will be some time before I have fresh seafood enchiladas and frozen margaritas again! Although who knows – just thought I’d cover my bases.

On our way back to Falls Church, we went to the Dupont Circle metro station. An older woman from somewhere in eastern Africa was completely terrified of the long, steep escalator at the station’s north entrance.

My husband offered her his hand as she negotiated boarding the escalator down, and it was a good thing; she placed her foot squarely on the seam in the step which almost caused her to fall. She held onto my husband’s shoulder with a death grip all the way down, much to his delight and that of her two better-balanced (and less fearful) female companions. We had a lot of laughs with them and it reminded me of the mild nausea I felt when I first saw the escalator at Rosslyn on medevac from my Peace Corps Volunteer service in April 2004.

I spent the latter part of the afternoon and evening at the hotel re-organizing and re-packing my suitcases and having quiet time with my husband. We cracked open a bottle of champagne saved from our wedding in September 2013 for just such an occasion. We ordered in, watched an episode of COPS, and laughed like the good old days.

The following morning I awoke early, and prepared to leave. Of course, we were running about 40 minutes early. My husband cooked me breakfast, which I ate despite my nervousness.

We headed to Reagan National Airport for my flight to NYC, where I have a couple of consular work-related consultations to conduct on my way to Tashkent.

It was a strange feeling to hug my husband goodbye, not knowing when he will be able to join me in our new home. However, a lot of Foreign Service spouses opt to temporarily live apart for a wide variety of professional, familial, financial, medical, logistical or other reasons. It’s really not a big deal, and we’re both treating it as an awesome adventure. I am very lucky to have so much support.