I woke up this morning (Saturday) before 6 AM suddenly remembering "Our internet is being cut off today!" I nearly jumped out of bed and ran to the computer. I needed to write. (and post). Our computer will be packed up on Monday, so losing these two things brings me right back to where I was in those early days in Celle, except not quite. I still have my iPhone. But that brings up the age gap--I just don't see myself blogging from my iPhone. But who knows. The need to post our progress might just drive me to it. Usually, however, it is better if I put a little bit of distance between the actual events and the blog post--it's more fun for you to read.
This week has been quite an emotional roller coaster, not so much the nostalgic kind, but the kind of emotion that comes when everything seems to be going wrong. Most of the problems have to do with leaving this house and getting to the next one. But we have a lot of good help, and I know we'll get through.
It was a sobering thought, the day before yesterday, as I decided to write to our sponsored children in Tanzania and Africa. I nearly wrote, "We're about to move back to the United States and so we have a lot of work to do, packing up . . ." Then I looked at the picture of little Habiba. In the background was their simple hut. She was dressed in a new dress bought with money we sent her for Christmas, and she was snuggling one of their two new goats.
It didn't feel right, anymore, getting so stressed (and often angry) about how things were going here.
I'd like to think that my better day yesterday had to do with this refocusing of the day before, but no, I am not that strong. Really my better day yesterday had to do with things just going better, wonderful time with friends, and making progress on my work. But I'll try to keep Habiba and Tigist in mind.
**
The reality of the move hit Henry in a new way on Thursday. He was telling me all the names of children who are inviting him to their birthday parties. He said, "I will have to make a lot of trips to go to their parties." We were walking home from Kindergarten and I said, "Well, you can't go to their parties but you can send them birthday cards." He still just kept listing their names. When we got home I pulled out the class list and said, "Here, we can write down the names of your friends on their birthdates on the calendar. Then you can send them cards." We pointed out the first one: May 26. "Look Henry--Charlotte's birthday is the same day as Uncle Nathaniel and Emily are getting married!"
"So I can't go?"
"No, but you'll be the ring bearer in Uncle Nathaniel's wedding and you'll see your cousins!"
He looked at the next birthday: June 1.
"And Leo's--we'll be going to New York then," I explained.
That's when the tears started coming.
"But what about Jannes' birthday?"
I finally had to spell it out very clearly, "Henry, we're moving to Texas and you can't come back for their birthdays."
"Why not?" (tears dripping onto the calendar).
"It's too far and it's too expensive."
I'm still not sure he really understood. But somehow it felt good to be able to cry together.
**
Thank you for keeping up with us via our blog over the last 22 months. Thank you for reading and for your messages and notes. It has meant so much to me, starting with those first few posts in Celle when I decompressed by writing long-winded posts about our adjustment. It makes it easier for me to return, knowing that you know a little bit about how it has been over here.
I hope to keep writing and blogging--maybe I'll even get another post in from Germany--but I just wanted to say thanks.
And now, because I keep looking at the green light on our modem, wondering when it will turn to red, I will post.
deine,
Laurel
This week has been quite an emotional roller coaster, not so much the nostalgic kind, but the kind of emotion that comes when everything seems to be going wrong. Most of the problems have to do with leaving this house and getting to the next one. But we have a lot of good help, and I know we'll get through.
It was a sobering thought, the day before yesterday, as I decided to write to our sponsored children in Tanzania and Africa. I nearly wrote, "We're about to move back to the United States and so we have a lot of work to do, packing up . . ." Then I looked at the picture of little Habiba. In the background was their simple hut. She was dressed in a new dress bought with money we sent her for Christmas, and she was snuggling one of their two new goats.
It didn't feel right, anymore, getting so stressed (and often angry) about how things were going here.
I'd like to think that my better day yesterday had to do with this refocusing of the day before, but no, I am not that strong. Really my better day yesterday had to do with things just going better, wonderful time with friends, and making progress on my work. But I'll try to keep Habiba and Tigist in mind.
**
The reality of the move hit Henry in a new way on Thursday. He was telling me all the names of children who are inviting him to their birthday parties. He said, "I will have to make a lot of trips to go to their parties." We were walking home from Kindergarten and I said, "Well, you can't go to their parties but you can send them birthday cards." He still just kept listing their names. When we got home I pulled out the class list and said, "Here, we can write down the names of your friends on their birthdates on the calendar. Then you can send them cards." We pointed out the first one: May 26. "Look Henry--Charlotte's birthday is the same day as Uncle Nathaniel and Emily are getting married!"
"So I can't go?"
"No, but you'll be the ring bearer in Uncle Nathaniel's wedding and you'll see your cousins!"
He looked at the next birthday: June 1.
"And Leo's--we'll be going to New York then," I explained.
That's when the tears started coming.
"But what about Jannes' birthday?"
I finally had to spell it out very clearly, "Henry, we're moving to Texas and you can't come back for their birthdays."
"Why not?" (tears dripping onto the calendar).
"It's too far and it's too expensive."
I'm still not sure he really understood. But somehow it felt good to be able to cry together.
**
Thank you for keeping up with us via our blog over the last 22 months. Thank you for reading and for your messages and notes. It has meant so much to me, starting with those first few posts in Celle when I decompressed by writing long-winded posts about our adjustment. It makes it easier for me to return, knowing that you know a little bit about how it has been over here.
I hope to keep writing and blogging--maybe I'll even get another post in from Germany--but I just wanted to say thanks.
And now, because I keep looking at the green light on our modem, wondering when it will turn to red, I will post.
deine,
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