new york to bogota

hey, i'm still 33 and this time i'm the one who went from new york to bogota.
I just realized that right now.
The trip was great and it felt like much more than 8 days. I was constantly surrounded by warmth and love and family and home. Bonding with people i don't know but with whom i just fit in perfectly. That was pretty remarkable.
Also remarkable was that it's possible to experience joy and mirth and really fucking intense pain at the same time. I was thrilled to visit churches on Holy Thursday/mom's anniversary and join in the tradition of faith of hundreds of people in the street. But it hurt so much that my mom was not there.
That was one of the themes for my trip: my mom was missing. Everything i did was a little less "blank" because my mom wasn't there.
And i cried at the beginning and the end of the trip, but in between i'd have these moments of realization where i felt like i got punched REALLY hard in the stomach and i'd always curse in my mind like, FUCK this really hurts. I'm constantly, continuously astounded by the amount of pain i feel and can tolerate.

My heart wrenched to see all of the new and exciting stuff in Bogota that my mom didn't get to see, but it was also somewhat comforting that i didn't have to relive too many memories painfully because there wasn't that much that i could remember from our trip there 19 years ago. In a way it's good when a place is new because it doesn't completely signify my mom. Although, like Dr. H. says, she will always be there, because she's always on my mind and in my heart.

I can't wait for fight club on Tuesday.
I cried myself to sleep last night. I feel a whole new wave of crying coming on for this month.

P.S. what the fuck is up with tearjerker movies on the airplane? 2 on the same flight? First "Everybody's Fine" which slayed me, again, followed by fucking "Hachi?" Are they kidding? I was so mad, but obviously really into the movies. yeah, crying on a plane has always been my dream.
Actually...i have had that dream.