It has become a ritual – we fly home for Christmas. Or to be more specific, we fly to where our home was before we moved half way across the world to where our new home is, which happens to be the place that is the only home our daughter as ever really known. So our little family of three crosses nine time zones and takes flight for 14 hours and heads off. We (I) pack too many things and come back with even more, and because it is the holidays stress levels are high. Entirely too high. Christmas night,…
