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Did it ever happen to you that, by postponing packing, you hope the day of your departure will not come? Unfortunately it is all just an illusion, and you will only be stressed out at the last minute, as your plane does not wait.

Now that the weather gods have answered my prayers and have cooled the earth off, just a little bit, my desire to leave my beloved city is about nil. It is an unpleasant trip that is awaiting me, as I have to install my first born in an apartment at the other side of the world. He has decided to trade the 3th world for 1st world again, leaving his mom (and father and sister) behind. I know, it is the normal flow of life. It is not unusual for an almost 19 year old to chose his own direction in life, different -and in our case, very far-  from that of your parents. But still, for the last 19 years this boy has been a non stop part of my life, we have never been apart for more then 2 weeks in a row, and now we won’t see each other (in person) for at least 7 or 8 months. That is a definitely big change.

I have picked out 5 days to do it all : buy furniture, do all the “tramites” like apply for ID, get health insurance, enrol in university, get drivers license and a lot more. Living in this inefficient slow country that Argentina is, I figured that would be enough. But well, I realise (much too late, of course) that life in Belgium isn’t that magically fast either. And it starts off well : the first day of the 5, there will be a national strike.

In Belgium there are no piqueteros, but we have national strikes. In general this means that all the state run offices and companies, and a lot of big (multinational) companies and factories, don’t work. The most important being the public transport. The strikers don’t go out on the street with drums to molest the people by blocking the roads. That is forbidden. They just stay at home to watch tv all day while the rest of the world is forced to take his car out and drive to work, thus paralysing the already congested roads and highways. It is a day that people are recommended to not leave their house, if possible, to avoid complete chaos.

Meanwhile I am still not packing. Any excuse is good to leave the house and walk through the streets of this city that I love so much, and I think about my son. How he will not be able too see all this for a long time, and I realise I couldn’t exchange this city for any other yet, I would miss it like crazy…

And my son? Well I guess it’s just time for me to let him go. Isn’t that what a mom is suppose to do eventually?