I have just returned home due to an unexpected death in the family, after spending exactly 46 hours in Amsterdam. I flew on 6 planes for a total of approx. 14,000 miles over an 80 hour period. I kept waiting for Phil from The Amazing Race to tell me where the required rest stop was. My brain is mush. I should have been more friendly with the A’dam dopers and gotten a local number or something, because I sure could have used a friend. I managed a trip to the Van Gogh museum and had a sad meal at Carousel de Pankuken. Most of the time I cried.
The Dutch people were lovely, as always. I hope I can return someday.
I have no more living family members. Such a hollow feeling.
It’s an odd feeling to be alone. I have no parents or grandparents, but I do (or did, anyway- never heard from him) have an uncle in some South American country somewhere. When my dad died, I thought “Well, that was the last person on the planet who cared about me.” It seemed stupid to think of myself as a 40 year old orphan, but that’s how it felt. Fortunately, I had a best friend who was someone I could really lean on back then.
