It wasn’t you, it was me…

We were together six years and 17 days, though it started as a 2 year commitment–typical, you know, for a relationship that began the way ours did.

In the beginning I worried about our communication—as if language itself wasn’t hard, your rules for driving, your lack of giving me space for parking…You were unavailable to me, failing me with what I needed when I needed it most–like after eight o’clock in the evening and on Sundays. You forcibly stamped every paper in sight! Building our relationship was a procedure or policy to you. Every year from November to March you were gloomy and walked around in a fog. But I fell in love anyway…

The sight of you, Luxembourg, took my breath away–you were so different from everything I knew, and you opened new doors to me. Through you I learned to love travel, see places through different eyes, experience unfamiliar cultures. From you I learned to love not only the small towns along the way, but the big hitters–London and Paris, Berlin and Vienna, Strasbourg, Salzburg, Amsterdam and Rome, Bucharest, Provence and Puglia, La Côte d’Azur, and even Dubai. But I always came home to you.

You introduced me to delicious and reasonable wines, though I’m not sure how reasonable I was after enjoying them. Through you I met Bernard Massad and the Kox, Schmit-Fohl and St. Martin families, and my bubbly new best friend Alice Hartmann. With them, I enjoyed delicious cheeses like reblochon, epoisse, gruyère, comté, gouda, Neufchâtel, and the curly petals of tête de Moins, along with a slice of saucisse and a hunk of fresh baguette or a board of flammkuchen.

Oh, dear Luxembourg, you helped me soar! I was and am more confident than ever! I tried new things–leading book clubs and Bible studies, taking trips with my friends, practicing yoga, cooking new dishes, teaching English to those whose mother tongue was Italian or French or Azerbaijani or Romanian. My friendships with people you introduced were more than special–true and sweet, meaningful and lasting (except for those few that weren’t)…

And I do miss you, little Grand Duchy, even more than I dreamed. I rethink that decision to end our relationship, but you knew there was third party involved. You also knew I’d choose Mr. Wonderful over you, always. After all, he enjoyed you nearly 30 years before I met you, and I sat home resentful–of his time you stole from me, the tales he told of you, the food and wine he shared with you. He introduced you to me, and I was smitten–by your character and your culture and your culinary delights. You are a jewel.

Those 6 years and 17 days with you, Luxembourg, are threaded in the tapestry of my little life, and I see no warrant to give up my moniker. I earned the title European Trophy Wife, though it takes little effort to be unemployed and the wife of a successful technical leader on another continent. I pretend Mr. Wonderful is the recipient of a status symbol in his betrothed, but in reality, I was the winner. I am the winner–of a life of excitement and exploration and fulfillment, no matter where I live.