Page 27 of London, Love, & A Little Something Irish

“They were great—well, except for the pigeon poop in Rome,” I laugh. “Landed right on my head at the ruins. Iconic, really.”

He grimaces. “That’s traumatic.”

“Tell me about it. The ruins are gorgeous, but I’m not sure they’re worth being a bird’s toilet.” I shake my head. “And what I loved most about Paris was the Eiffel Tower—especially how it sparkled at night. Big Ben has always been my favorite landmark since watchingThe Parent Trap, but the Eiffel Tower came in a close second. My mom even thought Big Ben would be as tall as the Eiffel Tower—she was a little disappointed that it wasn’t. But come on, that thing is massive!”

We both laugh, and for a moment, it’s easy. Still… there’s something missing. I feel like I’m just catching up with a friend.

I get comfortable in my seat, stealing glances out the window as the train begins to leave.

Thinking back on it, London always filled my brain with excitement and adventure.

Well—until the excitement took a two-year pause when my parents told me we were moving to England. Originally, the plan was to move close to London (Hemel Hempstead, to be exact). But after struggling to find a place, and having a second cousin down in Bournemouth, we ended up renting the first house we saw there. And just like that, London slipped a little further away.

I remember our first sightseeing day in London, and my mom asked me to take a picture with Big Ben in the background.

“No, Mom. I don’t want a picture,” I said, grumpily.

I was too annoyed about the move to rekindle my love affair with Ben. I’m sure he understood. It wasn’t him, it was me.

“Come on, honey! Just one picture, please!” she replied.

I obliged, with what was probably the most angry smile of my life. I looked like a rabid raccoon. A lazy, slouched, rabid raccoon.

I think she regretted asking.

My poor mom. She just wanted to embrace being in Europe, and I subjected her to every ounce of my hormonal teenage feelings.

But now? Now, my heart has long since apologized to Big Ben. And living in London,actually livinghere, makes me soar. I love navigating the city like a true Londoner. I know exactly which tube doors and carriages to sit in for the optimal connection to other stations. I avoid talking to strangers because I know that’s just not done. I use CityMapper, because that’s the thing to do. I act and move like a total Londoner, and Iloveit.

But more than the city itself, it’s the community here that makes London so special. Our church, Hillsong London, is full of wonderful, vibrant people. And places only ever really become meaningful because of the people you share them with.

So many people would love the opportunity to live in London, and God has givenmethis incredibleexperience.

As the countryside starts to roll past the window, I feel this wave of gratitude wash over me. Maybe I’m not ready to define things with Joel. Maybe I’m scared of what getting serious would mean. But right now, I can enjoy the little things. I can be grateful for them all.

11

Nataly

One of the things I love the most about coming home, besides seeing my parents, is where they live. After they rented that first house when we moved to Bournemouth—where we had one gigantic spider (seriously, it was horrible; it must’ve come from the chimney)—they found an amazing flat a year later. It’s in an apartment building, and the best part about it is the view. It’s right on the cliff next to the sea, so from their patio, you can glimpse the sea and the horizon. I spent around five years in this apartment, and I remember just going out onto the patio to listen to the waves. It would take me about 15 minutes to walk down to the sea because of the cliff, but I could still hear the waves from being up at the top.

Joel meeting my parents was fine. My mom came and picked us up from the train station, while my dad was at home.

“Hello, dear!” she said immediately, smile beaming.

“It’s so good to meet you,” Joel said, stepping forward andgiving her a warm hug that made it look like he’d known her forever.

“And you as well! I’m looking forward to getting to know you,” she said.

“I’ve heard a lot about you—Nataly sings your praises. I can already see why,” he said with a smile. “And now I see where she gets it—the warmth, the sparkle... and the dangerously good lasagna I’ve been warned about,” he added with a wink.

My mom laughed, fluttering her hand.

“You’re too kind!”

“Just honest,” he said, eyes crinkling with a smile. “I knew I was in for something special when Nataly said she was a ‘mini-you.’ I’m starting to believe her.”

My mom is ever the welcoming and most hospitable woman I know. He charmed her, as he does with most people. His conversation skills are top notch. It’s one of the reasons I like him. He enjoys asking other people questions and having a good laugh with them. And you can never underestimate the power of laughing with other people. Or charm. Prince Charming was called Charming for areason, people. So this side of Joel is great and reminds me of why I got together with him in the first place.

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