We're in between homes now and I feel like I should
be writing something reflective and inspiring about it but I just don't have it
in me. In the past two months I have taken my husband to the airport on his way
to his new job in Qatar, given away, donated, or thrown away almost everything
in our house, arranged for a relatively tiny shipment that's on a boat
somewhere between San Francisco and Doha, packed what remained into the van
with three kids and drove across the country to my home state of Vermont. Now
I'm in the process of trying to see old friends, spend time with family, and
feast my senses on the cool lakes and lush green of this New England
summer. As always, this in-between time is frustrating and illuminating, exhausting and confusing.
With all that in mind, please accept these snippets of where I'm at and what I'm learning:
Leaving yet another home earlier than expected and
getting rid of so many of our belongings made me determined to lose all
expectations of permanence. Staying in the
homes of friends who are settled in their home country and state for the
indefinite future reminded me why that can be a good thing, too. I can also understand why it could be hard for someone so settled to understand how I feel about this move- it's not a family adventure following years of planning, I'm not coming from a place of particular grounding or balance.
When will we fly off to Qatar to make our family
whole again and start settling in to the latest edition of "home?"
We don't know. It all depends on how long it takes our paperwork to
wend its way through the necessary bureaucracy. Sometimes I can
appreciate how all this uncertainty is strengthening my ability to be patient
and resilient but lately I'm wondering when the roller coaster will stop so I
can get off and practice walking in a straight line again. I’ve given up
trying to maintain much routine with the kids when we haven't yet spent more
than five nights in the same place. I
can tell how much they need a home base, how relieved we all are when we return
to a place they’ve been before.
My youngest sees Vermont license plates and shouts,
“Mom! Look! It's your people!” I feel that way too about my home state but with
all the reunions with old friends over the past 4000 miles since we left
California I'm starting to remember that my people are also spread wide across
the country and around the world. It's been a rich time to reconnect with
people who knew me in many versions of my life. I have so much gratitude
for these friends near and far and I hope that over time, I can be and provide
what my friends need along their paths. I am also starting to remember
that my people are fellow expats, even the ones I haven’t met yet- they tend to
be a welcoming group, attuned to the challenges and needs of a family moving to
a new place and generally willing to offer advice and extend invitations.
I'm more thankful than ever for the years we’ve
lived in free-range kid neighborhoods in Georgia and California where the kids
have gotten more practice playing with whoever's around and not relying on
organized activities to entertain themselves. So far on our trip across
the country this has put them in good stead for playing with any kids we
encountered. When we were living in Dhaka I imagined that I would want to
move back to the US when the kids got older so they could experience exactly
that freedom to roam without being hemmed in by walls, guards, and the watchful
eyes of housekeepers and drivers.
Being in Vermont has eased my struggle with the
decision to move to Qatar. Nearly every move abroad that I have made, since the
first one when I was 16, has been from my home state. While I love it here, it still
feels like a springboard, about to launch me into something new and exciting.
