baggage worth carrying

This moving thing may be a great source for learning about ourselves and our relationships, but it's so exhausting that all those lessons are not available immediately.  This time around, the ones I’m aware of so far are about the kids (future post on that, probably) and what I need to keep hold on even while I’m delighting in ridding myself of my possessions.

Lately I’ve been talking about how getting rid of my belongings is dangerously wonderful.  We’re moving to a furnished residence and deliberately aren't keeping much storage in the US, so we’re disposing of as many of our possessions as we can.  Books that have trailed us around the world for a decade and furniture passed down from family are being given away.  It’s such a freeing feeling that I’m nearly tempted to extend that into every aspect of my life- just be in the moment for everything, don't let possessions and attachments drag me down! There are exceptions- the kids are stuck with me until they head out into their own explorations of the world.  Certain documents- titles, deeds, birth certificates, etc- are safely encased in plastic folders and will be closely guarded.  Instruments, art, kids' books, costumes and camping equipment are all being shipped or stored.    

This time, for the first time, I've even considered stopping trailing.  We discussed the possibility of him heading off solo and me staying in the US with the kids.  In this post I worked on convincing myself that going together as a family to Doha was the right thing.  I still know that it is, but I needed something more to remind me why I wanted to keep trailing.   The word "trailing" itself sounds so passive and the hardest times to feel positive about it are when I've gotten caught up in thinking that's true, that he's forging ahead working long hours while we just dangle off him ending up any old where.  I've asked myself if cutting that rope would be the best way to take an active role in my life.

Trailing spousehood, for me, requires that I occasionally check with myself to see if this is still the path I want.  I’m not just along for the ride, just to see new places and have domestic staff. I truly would rather explore the world with my family, but marriage is hard enough even when you're not picking up and moving to an entirely other country every few years. On many of the moves my husband either goes ahead or stays on longer and I end up being responsible for making the transition with the kids on my own.  It can take a year of living in a new place before our experiences of it begin to match up.  He adjusts to his office and is oriented by his colleagues, both local and international.  I navigate the neighborhood, school, market, meet expats on the street and get my first orientation from our housekeeper and parents at the schoolbus stop.  He learns the streets near the office but can still get lost in our own neighborhood for months after we move.

Despite my zeal for lightening our load, some pictures and papers still manage to follow me around the world- there’s always one last bin or three that I am too packing-weary to go through before handing over to the shippers or stowing in the storage unit.  This time while we were sorting through a few of these,  I found photos from the year he lived in Liberia and I lived in Northern Ireland, before moving together to Kosovo.  He found old letters I had written, and journals, including the one from when I came to visit him in Liberia. It had a picture taped in that I had drawn of a pangolin I had seen on a walk outside the town where he was working. He came downstairs from sorting through his chest of old papers and photos and said, “I’m smitten with you all over again.” And just like that, so was I, with him.  

It was perfect timing for a reminder of our relationship before we had kids and I became a “trailing spouse,” how hard we worked to stay in touch via e-mail, satellite phones, and occasional meet-ups in Paris, Spain, Liberia and Vermont before we started living together.  Since then we've been a good team through a handful of countries and three states, three children, two layoffs and many camping trips. When he's far away we do our best to talk nightly.  I trust him to choose a home we will love before the kids and I even get there.  It can be easy for us to lose track of our shared history when it seems like we're always settling into a new place and having such different orientation to it.  I’m realizing that I can only continue to do this if I keep in mind the basic things we love about each other and remember why we decided to take on this lifestyle together.