The Night Before the Flight

"Are we crazy?" asked my husband the night before we caught the flight across the world.

We were sitting in our empty apartment in Belgrade. Five suitcases by the door. Three sleeping children in the next room. Everything we had spent 40 years building — sold, donated, or left behind.

I didn't answer him. I didn't know the answer.

I still don't know if we were brave or insane. Maybe both. Maybe that's the same thing.

What I do know is that we had made a decision, and the only way out was through.

The next morning, we woke the kids at 4am. Nobody complained. They were excited in the way children are excited about things they don't fully understand. I was terrified in the way adults are terrified about things they understand too well.

We locked the door for the last time. I didn't look back.

This is the first entry in our Immigration Journal. I'll be writing here about the real version of our story — not the highlight reel, but the whole thing.