"A picture of your favorite memory."
You know, I'm pretty sure that, as a wife and mother, my favorite memory should have something to do with my husband or son. And I looked at some of those pictures and thought about it. They're good memories, most of them. But I always glance at the picture and remember what was going on behind the camera, and sticks in my mind more than the happy moment. My wedding day was, well, lackluster and slightly odd. My favorite vacation photo of my husband and I was while he was on R&R from his last deployment. I found out I was pregnant with my son while on vacation in Rome and was desperately sick. They're great memories. But as I said earlier, I have trouble defining myself by motherhood, and choosing one favorite moment with my son would be pretty difficult.
This photo is of me in Istanbul. Right before this, I'd had lunch in a Turkish cafe and fallen asleep at the table from jet lag. I had just finished touring the mosque you see behind me. What you can't see is that it is insanely cold and windy. The skies opened up with freezing rain about 15 minutes after this. And it was one of the happiest moments of my life.
Before I went to Turkey, I'd never been further out of the country than Canada. I had no concept of "foreign." Even being in Turkey for a day before this was taken didn't make me feel like I'd really gone anywhere, seeing as everyone spoke English. I had spent months learning basic Turkish on my iPod while riding the metro and driving to the grocery store, and I hadn't gotten to use it. But this was the moment that I felt like I was somewhere else.
I have, of course, learned some things about travel since then. Layers are important. And the only words you need to know are for coffee, shopping, and it helps to know how the locals toast. The last one being very, very important down the road for the amount of beer I drank in Ireland.