The Last One

I don’t know how to begin this, my last post on my blog. (Edited to add: it wasn’t.) When I started writing here four years ago I was in desperate need of an outlet, anything to help me process what we were going through. I loved retelling my stories here – when our car broke down for the fifth time that month, when I had to walk to the bus in the pouring rain in an orange jumpsuit, when I found out I was pregnant with Lu. The writing helped keep me sane and made me feel connected to the people and places I missed – it served me well.


And now, it’s officially been two years since I left Chile.

How is it possible that that much time has passed? How is it possible that it hasn’t been more?

To be honest, typing that makes me feel like someone punched me in the stomach. I still miss it, our life there. The near-constant hardship felt empowering, a feeling I could call on whenever I needed resolve. I still think of the things we did there when I’m feeling off balance.


I feel like I’ve been in a hamster wheel since I stepped back into life in the states and I just now sense its slowing. Or maybe I’m slowing it deliberately. I’ve thrown myself into a constant state of motion, of starting over, of mothering and work, of putting too much into certain things and not enough into others and of distraction. I’ve accomplished a lot, but I’ve regressed in ways too. I’d like to be able to sit still with myself like I used to, staring at the Pacific. It was a struggle then but I was present. Sometimes here I feel like I’m trying to forget about being somewhere else.

Chile for me feels like an otherworldly adventure; it was like a five-year long test where the teacher made you grade yourself and then crumpled up your paper and threw it away. And without trying to sound overly dramatic, those were the most formative years of my life. To leave this space without recognition of that would be dishonest. More importantly, I can see now that I was also not a victim but a willing participant in the incredible and brutally trying life we held there. Things seem more at peace now though, like we’ve settled into a new rhythm that makes sense for who we are. I’m so thankful for that.

Occasionally, I slip into feeling like my life is too small. Living in the town I grew up in has its perks but the downside is that new memories are harder to come by. For someone like me, nostalgia creeps in everywhere.

Lucia helps though, as does our new house – a home many years in the making.


I hope that you’ve enjoyed the blog all these years, thanks for listening.



6 thoughts on “The Last One

  1. B,

    I’ve loved your writing always. It has connected me to a world, to a past, that so few people in my present can understand. A period of time that only those who lived it, experienced it, and walked away from can feel in their bones, know that it changed them. It was the single most life changing period thus far.

    I am so grateful for all it has brought me. The people I have met, the things I learned about myself and where I am today…undoubtably wouldn’t be the person I am without those years…

    I love you! I love the life you have made for yourself. You can’t go backwards, and you can’t spend your life looking over your shoulder, but it’s easier to move forward because of all that you know and what that period of life helped you become.

    Until our paths meet again…keep writing. You inspire me to continue writing despite…life…getting in the way.

    XX besos y abrazos por vida XX

    On Mon, Oct 3, 2016 at 7:13 PM, Gringo(green)home wrote:

    > gringohomechile posted: “I don’t know how to begin this, my last post on > my blog. When I started writing here four years ago I was in desperate need > of an outlet, anything to help me process what we were going through. I > loved retelling my stories here – when our car broke down f” >


    1. Aw Gabe! I’ve loved YOUR writing always too! Thank you so much for validating my feelings about this whole experience, would love to hash it all out in person, someday beautiful! Where are you writing these days? I’d love to follow. xoxo abrazos por vida mi amigui


  2. Love you girl! I’ve loved reading your dear open heart here, sharing some of your adventures, and knowing your bright smiles and loving sisterhood. I’m so happy for all you’ve gained and seen, and who wide open you are to life. Thank you for sharing all you have (and will continue to in life). BIG LOVE!


  3. Oh, Bree. 2 years ago you left. I remember saying goodbye to you and Lu at the Rincon Jumbo. In So happy to see you happy. You so very much deserve it. I owe you sooo much for lending me a hand with work. You literally saved me. I am forever grateful. I hope we meet up again here or there… But let’s. Love you!


    1. aw Sammi, I’m forever grateful to you, for our friendship and for everything you did for us while we were down there. I’m so lucky to have met you and I know we’ll see each other again, I’d really love to come down for a trip but I’d like to take Lu and have her old enough to remember it. Do you have any plans to come to the States anytime soon? Miss you and love you!


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