Fetching the Irishman

Going to pick up the Irishman was an all day event. We had him fly into Thessaloniki because we thought that we would be on the mainland when he flew in, but since we had already made the trip in for the funeral, we were back on the island on the day of his flight.

We had to catch the 10:30am ferry and then drive two hours to Thessaloniki (the picture above is on the way to the airport). We had planned on eating lunch with my cousin, but due to a series of unfortunate events (taking the wrong highway for 20 miles thanks to our American GPS, having a small accident at a gas station and having to wait for the Greek police), we only had 15 minutes to spare before we had to be at the airport to get him.

Parker was so excited to see his daddy that he was jumping out of his skin all day. By the time his dad walked through customs, Parker launched himself into his arms and didn’t stop talking for the next 3 hours and 26 minutes (I counted). We drove back to the port to catch the ferry and had some time to burn before the ferry left for the island. That was the perfect time for the Irishman to have his inaugural gyro (can you tell this is a tradition?).

Are you ready to take a bite?


After a short ferry ride back to the island, the Irishman was eager to see Lexi (who stayed behind with my mom). Unfortunately, 30 seconds after picking her up, he bonked her head against the door and she wouldn’t go to him again for 30 minutes. Oops!

After crashing early for the night, we headed to the beach the next morning. The day was perfect and the water felt like heaven.

I bought a little inflatable boat for the kids this year and Parker has been loving it. The Irishman decided to take Parker out to the deeper waters in it while I stayed on the shore and read a book (my guilty pleasure).

They played in the water for over two hours and for the first time in a long time, I saw the Irishman start to unwind.

We went home, they ate more gyros and then it was nap time. That night, we went out to dinner for souvlaki (for the boys) and fish (for me). It was a seriously wonderful day. I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt the perfection of it because at dinner, the Irishman looked at me and said, “Am I really here or is this just a great dream?”

It’s definitely real and for that, I am so incredibly thankful.



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