Tucking the boys in on our first night in Prague last August, I sat on Ben's bed and kissed him goodnight. He looked at me and started to cry, saying he was homesick. We were excited about this adventure, but our exit from home was stressful. We'd been mostly up for about 34 hours. Everyone was fatigued. So it wasn't surprising that Ben's emotional state was fragile. Nor was it surprising, I guess, that I cried myself to sleep that first night, too.
Tonight's our last night in Prague. How can it have gone so fast? How can we have fallen so in love with a city, a community? How can it be that both Ben and I fall asleep tonight with heavy hearts, knowing how much we'll miss this place?
