I love Advent. I love the colors, the smells, the sounds, the decorations and the liturgy. In 2002 Advent's meaning deepened for me as Philip and I were married on that third weekend of the season - my parents lit the Advent wreath as part of the worship service and we began our marriage with a sense of hope and anticipation of good things to come. Its meaning deepened further in 2004 as I carried our first child during the season and identified with Mary in a whole new way. I'll never forget being part of the Mt. Pleasant Presbyterian Church Christmas Eve worship service and my reading, which we drew blindly, was the passage about Mary being great with child and it resonated in my bones as it never had before. This year, Advent has another layer of meaning - we're anticipating being with our families in person for the first time since August and I feel anticipation in my bones in a new way! What's funny is that Advent, despite my eagerness to be with those I know and who know me best, has had an undercurrent of melancholy this year. I don't know if its the fact that its quieter this year for our family - that we're participating in Advent instead of helping choreograph it - or if the fact that our context has totally changed and has made my perspective on everything new. I haven't been able to articulate it or wrap my head around it so, this morning, after dropping the kids at school I went to the water - as I often do when there are thoughts that need sorting out. And as I walked onto the seawall at the usually peaceful and calm English Bay, it was clear that nature understood my mood. For today is the first that sun has truly broken through completely in some time, but today, the wind is fierce and the Bay was dotted with white caps sending seaspray vaulting over the seawall. It was as if the sea was telling me that Advent, indeed, is a holy mess.
This melancholy 'blue' undercurrent is born of grief I think. Selfishly I grieve the loss of my naïve childhood sense of the Christmas carol, candy cane laden experience of Advent. I grieve with and for friends who are entering this season in a new way this year - for their first time without one of their parents at the table, with a new diagnosis, as a single parent for the first time in years or as one who longs for parenthood to be part of their reality. All these 'new normals' aren't easy - they aren't the most wonderful time of the year. And that's really hard - but that choppy Bay this morning showed me that new normals are exactly what this season is about. For as I walked on that seawall that I'd never seen in this way before, I realized that the sunshine broke through the clouds to illuminate the mess - to wake us up to it so that the mess could be redeemed. And my understanding of this dichotomy of moods began to unfold.
My mom received a plaque as a gift when we were expecting that reads, "Babies are such a nice way to start people" and that rang through my head as I walked along that windy, light-filled, messy wall. Jesus broke through in the nicest way possible - He came as a baby - with no fanfare, no giant crowds. He needed to be loved and tended and I have to believe he brought out the best in everyone who saw Him that first Christmas. And I've always skipped from that holy night in the stable to Jesus in the temple, and then with the disciples doing ministry together, but today, I realized that when I do that I miss out on so very much of the story. Jesus grew - he had to learn to walk, he had to learn to talk, he made friends and he played. Jesus probably reached out to the new kids in his town/synagogue and I'm grateful for the young people who've served in that way for my children this year. Jesus walked with friends who found themselves in new circumstances. Jesus came into the world in a relational way and spent His life building relationships so that we may look back and see how Light broke in to illuminate the mess so it may be redeemed.
This year, not only does my understanding of Advent's anticipation have new meaning, but my understanding of the need for the Incarnation and the hope that Jesus will return has new meaning. For the day will come when we're all made whole again and peace is restored and the melancholy undercurrent will be no more. For Light will break in and illuminate our messes that they may all be redeemed and for that I'm grateful.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Fire Trucks and Snowflakes
Sunday is often seen as a day of Sabbath - rest. Our Sunday, however, was far from it. Seeing that our children were exhausted and needing some good introvert time, we chose to stay home from church and ease into the day. We all were ready for a change of scenery when we left for our adventure to Costco - an adventure we'd last endeavored right after moving here (translation: we were going to be replacing a lot of staples and would be coming home with more than a few bags). Now our family never does Costco in a small way - not that many people do - and Sunday was no different. We meandered through the aisles, dodging other carts [since most of downtown Vancouver seemed to have had the same idea we did and was also at Costco]. We made our obligatory trek down the 'Christmas toy' aisle and repeatedly said, "No we're not going to get that today" and "It's too close to Christmas to buy any toys" and "STOP ASKING FOR STUFF THE ANSWER IS NO". You get the point. By the time we'd made it to refrigerated food it was getting ugly - we'd reached the point of threatening to call Santa to ask that he skip our place this year and even that wasn't working. Nonetheless, the string cheese was a lot cheaper, the chicken too and we finally queued up to pay. Once we found ourselves safely back in the car we thought we were in the clear.
As we rolled up to our apartment building it became obvious we were far from in the clear. It's never a good thing to see fire trucks parked in front of where you live and the fact that there were two smack in front of our high rise was not a welcome sight. It was, however, obvious to Philip and me [since we're fire experts and all] that all was fine, so we proceeded to drive to our parking spot. As we wound down to our assigned stall - 3 floors below the lobby - it dawned on me that our trunk was F-U-L-L of our Costco purchases and the elevators were likely OUT OF ORDER since there were firemen all over the place. After trying to calm our very anxious children who weren't as convinced that there wasn't a real issue, we came up with a plan. We'd haul the perishables up to the lobby, get the full report and head for home. Thankfully (for our chicken and ground beef's sake) it's been unusually chilly in Vancouver the past few days so I left the meat outside after we climbed the 3 levels to our ground floor lobby. We visited with the firemen and discovered that someone (whom I hope remains anonymous for their own sake, bless their heart) on the 24th floor had been cooking and it went awry. Instead of opening the door or windows to the outside of the building, they opened their apartment door which led to the hallway and that's all it took. Hallway smoke detector screaming equals sirens blazing in response and, might I add, non-functioning elevators until the alarm system is reset. We hung out in the lobby for 20 minutes or so - the kids having quite a fun time checking out the axes and fire hoses strapped to the firemen's bodies - and we then decided it was time to head upstairs. Now it shouldn't have been all that daunting, except hauling an additional 15-20 pounds in bags digging into your fingers up 9 more flights of stairs makes anything daunting. We didn't even ask Henry & Lydia to carry anything but themselves - the hour and a half in Costco had already almost done them in and Philip and I weren't up for the nagging that would be required if we added to their load. So we went - and I'm proud to say we only stopped once for a breather and to adjust the knife-like bags that were about to dismember our hands. The elevators were restored to their normal function within an hour or so and non-perishable items made it into our home. The whole situation did, however, make me grateful NOT to live in the penthouse on the 31st floor - that trek would've been hellish. [Note: there are no photos as both cell phones and all cameras were in the apartment during this whole ordeal.]
As if fire trucks greeting you on Sunday wasn't enough of an adventure, we awoke to a snowy morn on Monday! Snow here in downtown Vancouver is akin to snow in SC. It rarely happens, so when it does, it's a big deal. There are several differences tho - the first of which is that school goes on as planned. When your entire (almost) student population can/does walk to school each day and there are no school busses that transport kids to their place of learning, snow's just a little extra decoration for the day. It was magical, really, to walk to school in the snow and it felt just a little more like Christmas-time. We only had a dusting as we made our way the 8-9 blocks to Lord Roberts, but it was just enough to leave footprints and make grates a little slippery as we pretended to ice skate our way along the roads.
I came home to ironing and left the TV and radio off as I just looked out the window - it's funny how snow makes everything look a tad more special and how its falling has a calming effect. Then it dawned on me! We were in the midst of a snow event and I needed some groceries - what if the dreaded run on milk and bread had beaten me and we were going to be without those two random staples for the duration of our smattering of snowflakes? Off to the store I went, smiling to myself as I pulled my snazzy purple cart behind me with the white flecks dancing around me. LO AND BEHOLD - the milk/bread disappearing act is something we Southerners can claim as uniquely our own, I do believe! There was bread to be had by the car loads and plenty of milk to boot. In fact, it looked as if grocery shopping saw absolutely no change from its norm because of this bizarre weather. Relief. Sandwiches could still be had in the Marcum household.
I picked up the kids - in no hurry to return because of the grocery cart - the outdoors were a fine refrigerator. We stayed at the playground almost an hour - our dusting had become almost groundcover by then and soccer is apparently much more fun in the snow. Once Lydia started slipping on the playground equipment it was clearly time to call it a day and we headed home for hot cocoa. We enjoyed another snowy day on Tuesday and, much like SC, the ground is back to its normal state today. It's been a week of extremes - from fire trucks to snow showers - but it's been a fun one and it's only Wednesday! I pray the sense of wonder I shared with my children this week never dulls and that it grows as life continues to unfold.
As we rolled up to our apartment building it became obvious we were far from in the clear. It's never a good thing to see fire trucks parked in front of where you live and the fact that there were two smack in front of our high rise was not a welcome sight. It was, however, obvious to Philip and me [since we're fire experts and all] that all was fine, so we proceeded to drive to our parking spot. As we wound down to our assigned stall - 3 floors below the lobby - it dawned on me that our trunk was F-U-L-L of our Costco purchases and the elevators were likely OUT OF ORDER since there were firemen all over the place. After trying to calm our very anxious children who weren't as convinced that there wasn't a real issue, we came up with a plan. We'd haul the perishables up to the lobby, get the full report and head for home. Thankfully (for our chicken and ground beef's sake) it's been unusually chilly in Vancouver the past few days so I left the meat outside after we climbed the 3 levels to our ground floor lobby. We visited with the firemen and discovered that someone (whom I hope remains anonymous for their own sake, bless their heart) on the 24th floor had been cooking and it went awry. Instead of opening the door or windows to the outside of the building, they opened their apartment door which led to the hallway and that's all it took. Hallway smoke detector screaming equals sirens blazing in response and, might I add, non-functioning elevators until the alarm system is reset. We hung out in the lobby for 20 minutes or so - the kids having quite a fun time checking out the axes and fire hoses strapped to the firemen's bodies - and we then decided it was time to head upstairs. Now it shouldn't have been all that daunting, except hauling an additional 15-20 pounds in bags digging into your fingers up 9 more flights of stairs makes anything daunting. We didn't even ask Henry & Lydia to carry anything but themselves - the hour and a half in Costco had already almost done them in and Philip and I weren't up for the nagging that would be required if we added to their load. So we went - and I'm proud to say we only stopped once for a breather and to adjust the knife-like bags that were about to dismember our hands. The elevators were restored to their normal function within an hour or so and non-perishable items made it into our home. The whole situation did, however, make me grateful NOT to live in the penthouse on the 31st floor - that trek would've been hellish. [Note: there are no photos as both cell phones and all cameras were in the apartment during this whole ordeal.]
As if fire trucks greeting you on Sunday wasn't enough of an adventure, we awoke to a snowy morn on Monday! Snow here in downtown Vancouver is akin to snow in SC. It rarely happens, so when it does, it's a big deal. There are several differences tho - the first of which is that school goes on as planned. When your entire (almost) student population can/does walk to school each day and there are no school busses that transport kids to their place of learning, snow's just a little extra decoration for the day. It was magical, really, to walk to school in the snow and it felt just a little more like Christmas-time. We only had a dusting as we made our way the 8-9 blocks to Lord Roberts, but it was just enough to leave footprints and make grates a little slippery as we pretended to ice skate our way along the roads.
The road leading to school - on our way - just a little dusting.
I picked up the kids - in no hurry to return because of the grocery cart - the outdoors were a fine refrigerator. We stayed at the playground almost an hour - our dusting had become almost groundcover by then and soccer is apparently much more fun in the snow. Once Lydia started slipping on the playground equipment it was clearly time to call it a day and we headed home for hot cocoa. We enjoyed another snowy day on Tuesday and, much like SC, the ground is back to its normal state today. It's been a week of extremes - from fire trucks to snow showers - but it's been a fun one and it's only Wednesday! I pray the sense of wonder I shared with my children this week never dulls and that it grows as life continues to unfold.
Henry post-soccer after school
Lydia pre-slipping after school
Thursday, November 28, 2013
A Thanksgiving interview for the kids' point of view
Henry and I had a date on Friday night - Lydia was at a birthday party and Philip was out of town for a wedding. He picked the itinerary - Mongolian BBQ for dinner, fro yo for dessert & Harry Potter - Chamber of Secrets for our viewing pleasure. While at dinner we were chatting and I asked if he had been nervous about meeting new friends here and he replied (without missing a beat), "No - I wasn't nervous at all about the making friends part. I was just nervous I'd be kidnapped by a homeless person." Reality check for mama. We'd talked about safety but kidnapping somehow escaped my parental radar...but he got me to thinking. I've been logging all of my thoughts and ponderings about this move, but I haven't actually written down what the kids' points of view have been. I offer you now the first official interview of the Marcum children post-move to Canada - enjoy!
MK: What has been the best part of moving to Vancouver?
L: My school and my new home. I love my bedroom - because we have a bunk bed and me and Henry share a room. It's also awesome to get our own pool and our own hot tub; and I like taking an elevator every day to our apartment.
H: Everything's around us - the beach is a couple of blocks away, we can walk to our school, we have less homework, not as many McDonald's. Halloween is really fun - you go to the mall with your class ad all the shops give you candy!
MK: What has been the hardest part of moving to Vancouver?
L: The traffic - I don't like the lines to get here.
H: Getting used to seeing homeless people.
MK: What is school like compared to Clemson?
L: The lunchroom smells gross; I'm in first grade, not kindergarten; it's different here because there's four floors and the playground is huge.
H: Less homework - a LOT less homework. It's not as big but it has a bigger playground. The building is different because it's a lot taller [4 stories].
MK: If there was one thing you could change about living in Vancouver, what would it be?
L: Our house - I'd have our Clemson house here.
H: More football; less hockey.
MK: What has been the biggest surprise about living in Vancouver?
L: There are lots of different restaurants right around us.
H: It's way bigger and we have a lot more stuff to do.
MK: What have you learned?
L: Math and reading; and I've learned that I'm really new here. Being new has made me feel happy because it just makes me happy.
H: My teacher really loves Harry Potter. I've learned that I am getting more used to being in a big city; I've also learned that there's stuff I can do here that I didn't do in Clemson like playing outside more - more recess too.
MK: What are some new/different words used here vs. in the States?
L: Washroom (instead of bathroom), the letter z is called 'zed'
H: Zed is 'z'; Chaps is another word for friend; Runners are tennis shoes; "Tukes" are stocking caps.
MK: What would be your perfect weekend in Vancouver?
L: Going to Whistler and skiing and playing on the playground and ice skating.
H: Having all my friends over, going to the beach, riding my bike along the entire seawall.
MK: What do you miss most about SC?
L: Friends & family.
H: There's more football there than here.
MK: How would you describe Vancouver to someone who's never been here before?
L: It's a very big city, we live in an apartment, and it's really awesome.
H: It's big, tall and really fun.
MK: What are you most excited about doing while we're here that we haven't done yet?
L: The Vancouver Christmas Market (she knows we're going today tho ^>^)
H: Ice skating!
There you have it - Vancouver through the eyes of an almost 9 year old and a 6 year old. Life is good and on this US Thanksgiving our gratitude runs deep. I'm most thrilled that our children seem to have a handle on remembering treasures of our family history while celebrating what's new in our life. I plan to interview them every few months to keep a running tab of their thoughts on this adventure. Here's to more memories being made and for the love of those near and far who are woven into our story. Happy Thanksgiving y'all!
MK: What has been the best part of moving to Vancouver?
L: My school and my new home. I love my bedroom - because we have a bunk bed and me and Henry share a room. It's also awesome to get our own pool and our own hot tub; and I like taking an elevator every day to our apartment.
H: Everything's around us - the beach is a couple of blocks away, we can walk to our school, we have less homework, not as many McDonald's. Halloween is really fun - you go to the mall with your class ad all the shops give you candy!
MK: What has been the hardest part of moving to Vancouver?
L: The traffic - I don't like the lines to get here.
H: Getting used to seeing homeless people.
MK: What is school like compared to Clemson?
L: The lunchroom smells gross; I'm in first grade, not kindergarten; it's different here because there's four floors and the playground is huge.
H: Less homework - a LOT less homework. It's not as big but it has a bigger playground. The building is different because it's a lot taller [4 stories].
MK: If there was one thing you could change about living in Vancouver, what would it be?
L: Our house - I'd have our Clemson house here.
H: More football; less hockey.
MK: What has been the biggest surprise about living in Vancouver?
L: There are lots of different restaurants right around us.
H: It's way bigger and we have a lot more stuff to do.
MK: What have you learned?
L: Math and reading; and I've learned that I'm really new here. Being new has made me feel happy because it just makes me happy.
H: My teacher really loves Harry Potter. I've learned that I am getting more used to being in a big city; I've also learned that there's stuff I can do here that I didn't do in Clemson like playing outside more - more recess too.
MK: What are some new/different words used here vs. in the States?
L: Washroom (instead of bathroom), the letter z is called 'zed'
H: Zed is 'z'; Chaps is another word for friend; Runners are tennis shoes; "Tukes" are stocking caps.
MK: What would be your perfect weekend in Vancouver?
L: Going to Whistler and skiing and playing on the playground and ice skating.
H: Having all my friends over, going to the beach, riding my bike along the entire seawall.
MK: What do you miss most about SC?
L: Friends & family.
H: There's more football there than here.
MK: How would you describe Vancouver to someone who's never been here before?
L: It's a very big city, we live in an apartment, and it's really awesome.
H: It's big, tall and really fun.
MK: What are you most excited about doing while we're here that we haven't done yet?
L: The Vancouver Christmas Market (she knows we're going today tho ^>^)
H: Ice skating!
There you have it - Vancouver through the eyes of an almost 9 year old and a 6 year old. Life is good and on this US Thanksgiving our gratitude runs deep. I'm most thrilled that our children seem to have a handle on remembering treasures of our family history while celebrating what's new in our life. I plan to interview them every few months to keep a running tab of their thoughts on this adventure. Here's to more memories being made and for the love of those near and far who are woven into our story. Happy Thanksgiving y'all!
Thursday, November 21, 2013
Heights and Hopes
Suspension bridges and I have a history.
When we were here exactly a year ago for what we thought was a 'once in a lifetime' vacation up in Whistler, we had an entire day to fill before our shuttle to Vancouver picked us up. Since we had no ski school or lift tickets and since I operate by the 'squeeze every moment out of a new place' mantra, I booked a tour called "Tree Trek". The brochure looked enchanting - and since we'd gotten 18" of snow the previous night, I had it worked out in my head that we'd be playing Swiss Family Robinson meets Narnia as we explored through snow covered trees connected not by land but by suspension bridges. I was thrilled. We checked in for our tour, loaded up on the shuttle bus and got dropped off in a snow covered area that hadn't even seen its first footprints. We started walking through the woods and I really felt like a Queen of Narnia who had just stumbled through the magic wardrobe.
Then, we got to the first bridge - about 20 feet long, but about 65 feet off the ground and my feeling of royalty disappeared. For the first time, I realized that becoming a mother did more to my psyche than I realized. My knees grew weak, my mouth grew dry, my heart started pounding and my head started swimming. I was scared. Not just creepy movie scared, but that down to your bones what-have-I-done kind of scared. I saw the bridge and immediately the images of my children falling to the ground (which may as well have been miles below) or the bridge snapping or the platforms in the branches where we stood to learn about the great fir trees falling from underneath us started flooding my brain.
I couldn't believe myself - heights had never played with me before - in fact, I quite liked seeing the world from a different perspective; clearly, not anymore. The tour guide explained at one point that we were almost 120 feet above the ground and I almost threw up. He went on about temperate rain forests and shared, what I assume, were many interesting facts about ecology and our relationship as humans to the environment. I only heard about every third sentence as I was repeating to myself things like, "They wouldn't sell tickets to families if this weren't safe," or "People have to inspect these bridges and platforms for safety or the tour company wouldn't take on the liability," or "Monitor your reaction because Henry & Lydia will take their lead from you." I've never participated in self-talk this intensely in my life.
And then Lydia thought it funny to jump on these snowy death traps and I flipped my lid [a little, or maybe more than a little] - making her walk with both hands on the steel cables as I forced myself to keep my eyes straight forward and not look down. It was horrifying - but I did it - and it was lovely [what parts I actually saw]. I, however, preferred the parts of the tour that were on solid ground.
Fast forward one year to this past weekend - we went hiking at Lynn Valley Canyon about 15 minutes from where we live. And as we made our way into the forest, there loomed before me another suspension bridge. At first I refused to cross - determining that Philip and the kids could go across and come right back and we'd head down the path to our left to enjoy what nature had to offer on solid ground. Then Lydia decided she was scared and I knew I'd done it, so I told her I'd go if she did, and we went. Again - I looked straight ahead at Henry's bright orange sweatshirt on the other side of the bridge and I watched intently as he prodded me along, inviting me to join him. I kept two hands on the steel cables - except when we had to pass by some most (according to my phobic self) insane tourists who stopped in the middle of the dangling walkway for photos. I didn't look at the views - which were supposedly beautiful (confirmed by the photos Philip took that I'll post at a later date when he's back in town w/ the camera) and Lydia and I made it. And we were both pleased with ourselves - but - looming in the back of my mind was our need to cross that blasted bridge again at the end of our hike.
We had a lovely time - climbing stairs to waterfalls, climbing down rocks to 30 foot pools (far too cold for swimming right now), scaling rocks and watching the river flow. We laughed and got dirty and had barrels of fun; then it was time to head back to the car. Henry could not wait to cross the suspension bridge again - I, on the other hand, would have been just fine walking another 10 kilometers to cross something that seemed more substantial. Henry could sense my angst and he sidled up to me and announced that we all needed to find a partner (all 4 of us, that is) and he was mine. He took my hand and looked me dead in the eye and said, "Mama - you and I are going to go first and I'm going to hold your hand and I'll help you conquer your fears." I almost cried right there. This voluntary heartfelt willingness to help me be brave was the best gift this mama could ever receive. And it resonated with my soul as the words "...a little child shall lead them..." rang in my ears. You see we're in the midst of that almost preteen, silly boy, sometimes attitude-ridden phase of life and this beam of hope that my sweet boy is still his sweet self was a spark of the divine. I know he's there but these moments when he embraces that piece of himself get me every time and must be recorded, praised and held tightly.
As luck would have it, we crossed the river via a traditional footbridge (thank the Lord) and I looked over the edge at the falls below with no fear. And I held my little boy's hand. And my heart was full to overflowing. My favorite time of year, the season of Advent, is coming - the time of expectation and hope - and this time nine year's ago I was carrying the child who has grown into the boy who now helped carry me through my fears. Hope is alive and anticipation is palpable. What a joy, what a humbling joy to be trusted with his care and with the care of our daughter. I look forward with great hope and anticipation for what the future holds for these two precious people and will forever hold them and our parenting as holy responsibilities - I and am ever-grateful for their health and good souls. May their true identity always make itself known - even when attitudes and silliness might mask them momentarily.
Narnia indeed
Walking down to a platform - notice hand firmly on wooden railing...
Walking UP to a platform - notice no solid ground in sight...
Commence self-talk
Fast forward one year to this past weekend - we went hiking at Lynn Valley Canyon about 15 minutes from where we live. And as we made our way into the forest, there loomed before me another suspension bridge. At first I refused to cross - determining that Philip and the kids could go across and come right back and we'd head down the path to our left to enjoy what nature had to offer on solid ground. Then Lydia decided she was scared and I knew I'd done it, so I told her I'd go if she did, and we went. Again - I looked straight ahead at Henry's bright orange sweatshirt on the other side of the bridge and I watched intently as he prodded me along, inviting me to join him. I kept two hands on the steel cables - except when we had to pass by some most (according to my phobic self) insane tourists who stopped in the middle of the dangling walkway for photos. I didn't look at the views - which were supposedly beautiful (confirmed by the photos Philip took that I'll post at a later date when he's back in town w/ the camera) and Lydia and I made it. And we were both pleased with ourselves - but - looming in the back of my mind was our need to cross that blasted bridge again at the end of our hike.
We had a lovely time - climbing stairs to waterfalls, climbing down rocks to 30 foot pools (far too cold for swimming right now), scaling rocks and watching the river flow. We laughed and got dirty and had barrels of fun; then it was time to head back to the car. Henry could not wait to cross the suspension bridge again - I, on the other hand, would have been just fine walking another 10 kilometers to cross something that seemed more substantial. Henry could sense my angst and he sidled up to me and announced that we all needed to find a partner (all 4 of us, that is) and he was mine. He took my hand and looked me dead in the eye and said, "Mama - you and I are going to go first and I'm going to hold your hand and I'll help you conquer your fears." I almost cried right there. This voluntary heartfelt willingness to help me be brave was the best gift this mama could ever receive. And it resonated with my soul as the words "...a little child shall lead them..." rang in my ears. You see we're in the midst of that almost preteen, silly boy, sometimes attitude-ridden phase of life and this beam of hope that my sweet boy is still his sweet self was a spark of the divine. I know he's there but these moments when he embraces that piece of himself get me every time and must be recorded, praised and held tightly.
As luck would have it, we crossed the river via a traditional footbridge (thank the Lord) and I looked over the edge at the falls below with no fear. And I held my little boy's hand. And my heart was full to overflowing. My favorite time of year, the season of Advent, is coming - the time of expectation and hope - and this time nine year's ago I was carrying the child who has grown into the boy who now helped carry me through my fears. Hope is alive and anticipation is palpable. What a joy, what a humbling joy to be trusted with his care and with the care of our daughter. I look forward with great hope and anticipation for what the future holds for these two precious people and will forever hold them and our parenting as holy responsibilities - I and am ever-grateful for their health and good souls. May their true identity always make itself known - even when attitudes and silliness might mask them momentarily.
Our kids a year ago
Our kiddos today
Friday, November 15, 2013
Animals, Thanks and True Confessions
When I was 10 or so I didn't believe my parents AT ALL when they said you never stop learning. Alas, as I march toward ripe old 38 I get it. I suppose I got the lesson some time ago, but needed to publicly claim it and thank my parents for challenging me to learn everywhere I go. Sometimes my learnings are of the "Eureka!" nature, sometimes they're of the "Well, duh..." nature and sometimes they're subtle and occur to me slowly like a winter sunrise. Whatever the case, I find that most of my ponderings include some aspect of my latest life lessons and for that I'm grateful. In this season of gratitude it seems that growth and thanks go hand in hand - so I've been pondering their mutually beneficial relationship this week.
We've had more than a few friends get some gut-wrenching news since we've moved here and have felt handicapped in our ability to walk through their challenges with them being so far away. However, my appreciation for our 'technological age' and cell phones and such has grown immensely. While I sometimes curse the very technology that I now hold in a new level of esteem, there's no denying that it makes separation seem smaller. And I have to force myself to admit, reluctantly, that I'm much more dependent on items that plug in than I like to believe. Herein lies my latest quest for balance - to figure out how to pursue actual human connection instead of relying so heavily on the virtual connection provided by apps and computers. There's nothing that can replace the warmth in a conversation or the intricacies of intonation that an actual conversation provides. And there's nothing that can ever adequately convey the messages we send with our body language. While I'm thankful for the ability to be connected, I'm challenged to carve out time and space for personal interactions - they're so much more fulfilling than typing on a computer screen and reading sound byte updates of people's lives. In seeking balance and I find myself learning more life lessons and may it always be so.
I've hit the stage here where I can easily talk myself out of my morning walk - today's an example, but it's more legit than some. I'm home with a 'sick' child - she feels puny indeed, but as the morning wears on I'm not entirely convinced staying home from school was critical. However, since her teacher's out as well we're chalking it up to a mental health day and moving on. Alas - I digress. We've been incredibly fortunate to have more than a few sunny days - which, as I understand it, is unusual in Vancouver in November. On Tuesday I went out for a long walk to drink in the sunshine along the seawall. It was glorious! And I noticed an amazing phenomenon - striking in its simplicity, yet brilliant! There were seagulls (a couple of whom were fighting over a prize crab - one had it in its beak while another swooped in to steal its legs for a snack) and crows who were diving toward the rocky shore and coming up with clams. I felt a little sorry for them at first because they kept dropping them. Then I had one of those "Well, duh..." moments - the dropping was completely intentional. They'd pick up their choice mollusk fly up about 10-15 feet and drop it onto the paved pathway in an effort to crack it open and gobble up its tasty offering. I marveled at the fact that an animal with a literal 'bird brain' could come up with such a brilliant, albeit labor intensive, approach. And somehow they kept up with which clam belonged to which bird - I suppose if we humans worked so hard for a snack we'd all be in great shape. As I walked I was again struck by the beauty that is this place - I left the seawall and cut into downtown to finish the loop to our apartment. I traded the tranquility of the seawall (aside from the falling clams) for the bustling of Robson Street.
Robson is the main commercial street through our neck of the woods and its energy is intoxicating. I love walking down Robson - you see everything - and the store windows are fun to peer into as well. Old Navy has opened its first downtown store and there were little bike 'cabbies' pedaling people back and forth from the store, a lady in hot pink tights and roller blades voluntarily directing traffic as she made her way to her destination, music was playing, street vendors were selling their creations and the sun was shining. It was exciting. And I had to be out of the house for a chunk of time so the realtor could show our apartment. I was emboldened and decided I'd venture across to Michael's in North Vancouver while enjoying an infrequent car ride in the sun with the sunroof open. I confidently strolled to the car in the garage and intentionally thought, "I've got this - no need for GPS - if this is going to be home I'm going to treat it that way". Now, this has very much become home and I'm great at walking anywhere I want to go - but it's important to note that we drive very little. And if we do, it's usually as a whole family and it's usually Philip driving. And there are a lot of one way streets. AND - I'm really good at remembering what various areas look like and how to use the streets in immediate proximity to navigate around said places, BUT I'm not so great at the bigger picture - the whole remembering how to get from my apartment to the area I want to go is a growing edge. At least I learned it is a growing edge...
I had an hour and a half before I had to leave to walk and pick up the kids from school - plenty of time to get across town and back. So I set out - no GPS - radio on, sunroof open - feeling all sorts of proud of myself. And I drove toward where I thought I needed to go and I sat in construction traffic but didn't worry one bit about time because I knew where I was going and still had time - I was only a few miles away... And then I reached the bridge - the wrong bridge...you see, I knew which bridge I needed to cross but I'd driven to the wrong bridge. And so I caved - and plugged my destination into the GPS (which was entirely safe because I was sitting for the 3rd time at the same light since construction had brought traffic to a dead standstill) and was shocked (not really) to learn I was supposed to be heading in the opposite direction. Philip teases that when I think I should go left I really should turn right...and he was right again. I got cocky and then I got humbled. You see - now there really wasn't time to get to where I wanted to go and back, so I used the GPS to navigate myself in a big old circle back to our apartment and I parked the car, got out and walked for coffee. True Confession - I am NOT ready to venture out in a car without the GPS. Dangit. Some things never change I suppose - so I'm grateful, as well, for GPS.
The other thing that never changes is that when Philip's out of town some sort of household issue arises. This week, as has been the case in the past, we noticed the heat in the kitchen and the kids' room isn't working - at all. So we let the realtor who's listed the property know and we let the realtor who rented us the property know and a tech was on his way out to fix us right up before Philip flew out of town. Well - he was on his way until he decided his truck was too big to come to our building (which I didn't buy) so we had to wait. Of course, I called Carlos, the second tech, and he could come at 6:15 in the evening while Philip was away - naturally. So he came...fixed the heat rather quickly...and he left. But as the elevator closed with him on it the smoke alarm starting squealing. Clearly the heat in the kitchen hadn't been on for some time and the dust burning off of it caused an issue. ARGH - the only other time the alarm has gone off was when a pepperoni had fallen off a frozen pizza and sizzled its life away on the bottom of the oven. When the alarm sounded in the pizza incident, it refused to be quieted and we ended up yanking both detectors from the ceiling and removing the batteries for two days. Never let it be said a Friday evening is boring when frozen pizza and rental movies are involved... So, when it went off this time, I was terrified that we'd meet the same fate and our neighbors would be horribly irritated. Thankfully, with the flip of a switch the kitchen fan was turned on, the sliding glass door was flung wide open and that pesky little safety device (which I would normally be ever-grateful for) hushed itself. It was 7PM and I was exhausted, but was grateful, again, for the quick end to the squealing and for functioning heat - despite the fact that I've left the heat off in the kitchen since that incident.
So here we are - I've learned tons and continue to learn even more. As we are in the midst of the season of thanksgiving and I've not been giving daily thanks via facebook this year, here's my list - albeit incomplete:
- For family - I'm immensely grateful - for their unconditional love, support, willingness for adventure and partnership in this thing called life. I wouldn't be who I am without them - and life is better because they're in it. And a special thanks for the gift of Philip - we're a great team and I couldn't imagine experiencing all that we've experienced with another soul - God gave me Philip, it's clear. And God gave the two of us our greatest gifts ever in Henry & Lydia.
- For health - I take it for granted that Philip, Henry, Lydia and I are healthy and that our families are healthy. Daily there are reminders of the blessing of good health and the challenges that we don't currently face and I'm striving to make my gratitude for this gift more intentional.
- For not being fearful of mistakes and for the lessons those mistakes afford [for myself and my children]
- For friends - both near and far - What joy it is to be connected with dear ones and celebrate victories, grieve hard times and meander the roads of life in such a varied community of people! Without such a web, the world would seem so very much larger and lonelier.
- For the underlying truth that people are made good and that no matter our differences there's always common ground to be found.
- And finally for faith - our family has been made most whole in our identity as God's own; as such, our outlook on the world seeks to celebrate our connectedness to all people as children of God. And I am grateful that God is creative and calls us to be co-creators, living into the lives we've been given.
We've had more than a few friends get some gut-wrenching news since we've moved here and have felt handicapped in our ability to walk through their challenges with them being so far away. However, my appreciation for our 'technological age' and cell phones and such has grown immensely. While I sometimes curse the very technology that I now hold in a new level of esteem, there's no denying that it makes separation seem smaller. And I have to force myself to admit, reluctantly, that I'm much more dependent on items that plug in than I like to believe. Herein lies my latest quest for balance - to figure out how to pursue actual human connection instead of relying so heavily on the virtual connection provided by apps and computers. There's nothing that can replace the warmth in a conversation or the intricacies of intonation that an actual conversation provides. And there's nothing that can ever adequately convey the messages we send with our body language. While I'm thankful for the ability to be connected, I'm challenged to carve out time and space for personal interactions - they're so much more fulfilling than typing on a computer screen and reading sound byte updates of people's lives. In seeking balance and I find myself learning more life lessons and may it always be so.
I've hit the stage here where I can easily talk myself out of my morning walk - today's an example, but it's more legit than some. I'm home with a 'sick' child - she feels puny indeed, but as the morning wears on I'm not entirely convinced staying home from school was critical. However, since her teacher's out as well we're chalking it up to a mental health day and moving on. Alas - I digress. We've been incredibly fortunate to have more than a few sunny days - which, as I understand it, is unusual in Vancouver in November. On Tuesday I went out for a long walk to drink in the sunshine along the seawall. It was glorious! And I noticed an amazing phenomenon - striking in its simplicity, yet brilliant! There were seagulls (a couple of whom were fighting over a prize crab - one had it in its beak while another swooped in to steal its legs for a snack) and crows who were diving toward the rocky shore and coming up with clams. I felt a little sorry for them at first because they kept dropping them. Then I had one of those "Well, duh..." moments - the dropping was completely intentional. They'd pick up their choice mollusk fly up about 10-15 feet and drop it onto the paved pathway in an effort to crack it open and gobble up its tasty offering. I marveled at the fact that an animal with a literal 'bird brain' could come up with such a brilliant, albeit labor intensive, approach. And somehow they kept up with which clam belonged to which bird - I suppose if we humans worked so hard for a snack we'd all be in great shape. As I walked I was again struck by the beauty that is this place - I left the seawall and cut into downtown to finish the loop to our apartment. I traded the tranquility of the seawall (aside from the falling clams) for the bustling of Robson Street.
Views from the Sewall and of English Bay
Robson is the main commercial street through our neck of the woods and its energy is intoxicating. I love walking down Robson - you see everything - and the store windows are fun to peer into as well. Old Navy has opened its first downtown store and there were little bike 'cabbies' pedaling people back and forth from the store, a lady in hot pink tights and roller blades voluntarily directing traffic as she made her way to her destination, music was playing, street vendors were selling their creations and the sun was shining. It was exciting. And I had to be out of the house for a chunk of time so the realtor could show our apartment. I was emboldened and decided I'd venture across to Michael's in North Vancouver while enjoying an infrequent car ride in the sun with the sunroof open. I confidently strolled to the car in the garage and intentionally thought, "I've got this - no need for GPS - if this is going to be home I'm going to treat it that way". Now, this has very much become home and I'm great at walking anywhere I want to go - but it's important to note that we drive very little. And if we do, it's usually as a whole family and it's usually Philip driving. And there are a lot of one way streets. AND - I'm really good at remembering what various areas look like and how to use the streets in immediate proximity to navigate around said places, BUT I'm not so great at the bigger picture - the whole remembering how to get from my apartment to the area I want to go is a growing edge. At least I learned it is a growing edge...
The view up Robson Street toward our apartment (our building is in the background)
The other thing that never changes is that when Philip's out of town some sort of household issue arises. This week, as has been the case in the past, we noticed the heat in the kitchen and the kids' room isn't working - at all. So we let the realtor who's listed the property know and we let the realtor who rented us the property know and a tech was on his way out to fix us right up before Philip flew out of town. Well - he was on his way until he decided his truck was too big to come to our building (which I didn't buy) so we had to wait. Of course, I called Carlos, the second tech, and he could come at 6:15 in the evening while Philip was away - naturally. So he came...fixed the heat rather quickly...and he left. But as the elevator closed with him on it the smoke alarm starting squealing. Clearly the heat in the kitchen hadn't been on for some time and the dust burning off of it caused an issue. ARGH - the only other time the alarm has gone off was when a pepperoni had fallen off a frozen pizza and sizzled its life away on the bottom of the oven. When the alarm sounded in the pizza incident, it refused to be quieted and we ended up yanking both detectors from the ceiling and removing the batteries for two days. Never let it be said a Friday evening is boring when frozen pizza and rental movies are involved... So, when it went off this time, I was terrified that we'd meet the same fate and our neighbors would be horribly irritated. Thankfully, with the flip of a switch the kitchen fan was turned on, the sliding glass door was flung wide open and that pesky little safety device (which I would normally be ever-grateful for) hushed itself. It was 7PM and I was exhausted, but was grateful, again, for the quick end to the squealing and for functioning heat - despite the fact that I've left the heat off in the kitchen since that incident.
So here we are - I've learned tons and continue to learn even more. As we are in the midst of the season of thanksgiving and I've not been giving daily thanks via facebook this year, here's my list - albeit incomplete:
- For family - I'm immensely grateful - for their unconditional love, support, willingness for adventure and partnership in this thing called life. I wouldn't be who I am without them - and life is better because they're in it. And a special thanks for the gift of Philip - we're a great team and I couldn't imagine experiencing all that we've experienced with another soul - God gave me Philip, it's clear. And God gave the two of us our greatest gifts ever in Henry & Lydia.
- For health - I take it for granted that Philip, Henry, Lydia and I are healthy and that our families are healthy. Daily there are reminders of the blessing of good health and the challenges that we don't currently face and I'm striving to make my gratitude for this gift more intentional.
- For not being fearful of mistakes and for the lessons those mistakes afford [for myself and my children]
- For friends - both near and far - What joy it is to be connected with dear ones and celebrate victories, grieve hard times and meander the roads of life in such a varied community of people! Without such a web, the world would seem so very much larger and lonelier.
- For the underlying truth that people are made good and that no matter our differences there's always common ground to be found.
- And finally for faith - our family has been made most whole in our identity as God's own; as such, our outlook on the world seeks to celebrate our connectedness to all people as children of God. And I am grateful that God is creative and calls us to be co-creators, living into the lives we've been given.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
The Trouble with a Border...
The birth of this blog came about as I pondered what life would be like as we made a big family move. I knew I wouldn't physically sit down and write with a pen on paper about our experience but I also knew I wanted some sort of chronicle of our adventure to share with our kids as they get older. I've been very intentional to be positive as I've written - honest - but positive. I don't think it's entirely helpful to complain and I hate whining. I. REALLY. HATE. WHINING. So it's an odd thing for me to compose this post but I would not do our experience justice if I didn't record some of the crap that comes along with a big move...and I don't want to paint a picture like Norman Rockwell because we all know that's just not real. So here's authentic me trying to condense into one essay what some of the mess has been in this adventure - I'll really try not to whine - and I'll return to positive thoughts, hopefully by the end of this post.
Borders are funny things - international ones anyway. There's no real line you cross - no sign that you're heading for topsy turvy in parts of your life - you show your passport, get a piece of paper stapled to it, wave to a new flag and POOF! You're in. Yea - it's oversimplified, but at it's essence this is what happens (perhaps with a 2.5 hour wait in the border offices, but I digress). I've heard stories of folks turned away just because they overwhelmed the office staff and things such as that but that wasn't our experience. However, that invisible line is powerful. Here's some of what it can do:
-You may be required to pay off your car before moving across an international border. It's true - we had to do it. It was a bit shocking. It wasn't my idea of fun. But we did it and now we don't have a car payment so there's that.
-Toll free numbers, even if called from a US cell phone, are inoperable when called from Canada. Yep! And this makes for all sorts of nonsense...especially when companies refuse to give out a regular old phone number that you could call from your new landline.
-If you want a full, open work permit they'll tell you at the border that you have to go back to the States for a physical and bring proof back to Canada that you had it before you can work in education or in the medical field. It's true - and I get it - but it's kinda funny too.
Many folks over the past 10 days have tolerated and even supported my one woman battle with Verizon Wireless. Let me just say that it has been exhausting and much more time consuming than it ever should have been. And as this interaction has dragged on I got to thinking about borders in the first place. They're everywhere and we make a lot of light about not being boxed in by borders or feeling like we have to color inside the lines. But borders can often get in the way. You see - this giant 'communications' company said they didn't have a number I could call from Canada to resolve this in one interaction...therefore I had to follow up with facebook messages and emails and media contacts...ridiculous, really. Now keep in mind I've not even turned on my Verizon phone since September 1st - I didn't want to get charged for using it in a 'foreign' country since, as they told me, the US would have to 'borrow' satellite service from Canada if I did. Now this whole notion of borrowing satellite service holds about as much water with me as my children's claims that they have no idea how the empty Halloween candy wrappers ended up under the couch. As I understand it, satellites are in space and I don't know how any country has real estate rights to some piece of metal floating in outer space?!?! But whatever. I haven't used my phone and was naturally irritated when I got a huge bill for 'early termination' of my contract. After 10 days of all this back and forth business they finally forgave the early termination fee and admitted there was no late fee (as I'd told them and proven to them) and then I asked the really hard question - how may I pay you? Uh-oh - that whole border thing reared its head again. Their *brilliant* solution was for me to facebook them the card number I wanted to use to pay the bill along with the security code and expiration date and they'd update my account right away. ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? Um, not gonna happen. They let me know that the website wouldn't be an option because I wasn't in the States (that's helpful) and again, I couldn't call their 800 number because...you guessed it...I've crossed the border. Good heavens. So here's the plan - our family will drive ourselves to Washington state where we will seek out a brick and mortar Verizon Wireless store...I will walk in...and ever so politely interact with a human being and pay for my final month of service. There will be no emails, no facebook, no response from a different person for each question asked. I will talk face-to-face with a person - one person - who will answer all of my questions. But I'll have to show my passport to do it. Ludicrous.
We caught another zinger last week when the realtor who rented our apartment to us called Philip to let him know that the owner (whom we've never met or even been able to contact personally) is selling our unit. Lovely. The tricky part is that the guy who rented the space to us isn't the listing agent so another real estate group came to take photos and list our home on the MLS. This was new for us as we'd both only lived in apartment complexes that were a single complex - our building is owned by a whole bunch of different folks who bought individual units for investment purposes and such. Why don't we buy our place and it's 1184 square feet of living space? The asking price is $638,000 and there's a 20% down payment required and our visas expire in 3 years. So - renting is the way to go for us. The irony is thick though - we just completed a major renovation project on our house in Clemson and our apartment building is now going through a major renovation. I've laughed when folks complain about how long it's taking because I feel right at home, and even liberated, as this is NOT a DIY project like I'm used to. And the transformation is pretty amazing - it looks lovely - which is probably why the owner of our place wants to sell it. All that aside - it stinks to have to clean the place to show - we've just finished going through that in Clemson. Folks have suggested we not clean it or leave dirty dishes in the sink and what-not, but our hope is that if it sells, another investor will buy it, hence we can stay...so the showings are a bit of an interview for us as tenants too - and so we have to stay on top of it. That, combined with the fact that we're not telling the kids (figure there's no need to upset them until we know if we have to move), is a pain. I'm terrible at keeping secrets - really terrible. And I don't like unknowns...so we've just decided to trust that all will be well and things will work out as they're meant to...and we laugh, because really, this is actually very funny. Who'd have ever thought 2 months into this we'd be facing the sell of our apartment - at least we've got time. They have to honor our lease through July so there's no need to get all wound up, right?
I've learned a lot in this border crossing experience. My appreciation for small businesses has been renewed as has my commitment to do my best to give mom and pop shops my business. I've learned that big companies count on you to weary of a fight and that they bank on you giving up because they make it laborious. But I've also learned that if you don't give up, a big business might just realize that doing the 'right' thing is their best option. Sadly - they still see it as an option - carefully weighed against the power of the almighty dollar and some statistical report that lists our business as an impersonal unit without regard for the people behind it. I also learned these big businesses don't do any favors for their employees and I feel for the folks who work on their frontlines. They have to deal with a lot of grumpy people and that must suck. I've also re-learned that the most constant thing in life is change and the best way to manage is to embrace it and roll with it because fighting just makes you callous and tired. And if you step back and look at the big picture, some of the curve balls make for the best laughs of all. So, this weekend, we'll cross the border a couple more times and what we'll do in addition to paying Verizon is this:
-Get the kids some new tennis shoes
-buy cheese - it's all sorts of expensive here (like $8.00 for a 2 cup bag of shredded cheddar...not kidding)
-head to Seattle for some coffee and some time in the space needle
-laugh with my kids and husband as we wait in line to cross an imaginary line
-celebrate that we're able to move pretty freely between two countries and be grateful for the folks who made that possible - especially during this remembrance weekend
-come back to our home with a little taste of our former home and get right back at it
For I know this: life is about getting back at it - not stopping - and laughing when you can think of nothing else to do. These laughable moments are holy ones - so are the ones that make us cry. And life is about relationships - with dear, dear friends who are in the midst of their own battles (many that are much more significant than mine with Verizon). I relish the value of a friend's voice on the other end of the phone or the comfort of a hug when there just aren't words. And I miss the nearness of so many who I hold dear while being grateful for new relationships that make my experience of the world richer. We're all in it together folks and that's something I'll never take for granted.
Borders are funny things - international ones anyway. There's no real line you cross - no sign that you're heading for topsy turvy in parts of your life - you show your passport, get a piece of paper stapled to it, wave to a new flag and POOF! You're in. Yea - it's oversimplified, but at it's essence this is what happens (perhaps with a 2.5 hour wait in the border offices, but I digress). I've heard stories of folks turned away just because they overwhelmed the office staff and things such as that but that wasn't our experience. However, that invisible line is powerful. Here's some of what it can do:
-You may be required to pay off your car before moving across an international border. It's true - we had to do it. It was a bit shocking. It wasn't my idea of fun. But we did it and now we don't have a car payment so there's that.
-Toll free numbers, even if called from a US cell phone, are inoperable when called from Canada. Yep! And this makes for all sorts of nonsense...especially when companies refuse to give out a regular old phone number that you could call from your new landline.
-If you want a full, open work permit they'll tell you at the border that you have to go back to the States for a physical and bring proof back to Canada that you had it before you can work in education or in the medical field. It's true - and I get it - but it's kinda funny too.
Many folks over the past 10 days have tolerated and even supported my one woman battle with Verizon Wireless. Let me just say that it has been exhausting and much more time consuming than it ever should have been. And as this interaction has dragged on I got to thinking about borders in the first place. They're everywhere and we make a lot of light about not being boxed in by borders or feeling like we have to color inside the lines. But borders can often get in the way. You see - this giant 'communications' company said they didn't have a number I could call from Canada to resolve this in one interaction...therefore I had to follow up with facebook messages and emails and media contacts...ridiculous, really. Now keep in mind I've not even turned on my Verizon phone since September 1st - I didn't want to get charged for using it in a 'foreign' country since, as they told me, the US would have to 'borrow' satellite service from Canada if I did. Now this whole notion of borrowing satellite service holds about as much water with me as my children's claims that they have no idea how the empty Halloween candy wrappers ended up under the couch. As I understand it, satellites are in space and I don't know how any country has real estate rights to some piece of metal floating in outer space?!?! But whatever. I haven't used my phone and was naturally irritated when I got a huge bill for 'early termination' of my contract. After 10 days of all this back and forth business they finally forgave the early termination fee and admitted there was no late fee (as I'd told them and proven to them) and then I asked the really hard question - how may I pay you? Uh-oh - that whole border thing reared its head again. Their *brilliant* solution was for me to facebook them the card number I wanted to use to pay the bill along with the security code and expiration date and they'd update my account right away. ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? Um, not gonna happen. They let me know that the website wouldn't be an option because I wasn't in the States (that's helpful) and again, I couldn't call their 800 number because...you guessed it...I've crossed the border. Good heavens. So here's the plan - our family will drive ourselves to Washington state where we will seek out a brick and mortar Verizon Wireless store...I will walk in...and ever so politely interact with a human being and pay for my final month of service. There will be no emails, no facebook, no response from a different person for each question asked. I will talk face-to-face with a person - one person - who will answer all of my questions. But I'll have to show my passport to do it. Ludicrous.
We caught another zinger last week when the realtor who rented our apartment to us called Philip to let him know that the owner (whom we've never met or even been able to contact personally) is selling our unit. Lovely. The tricky part is that the guy who rented the space to us isn't the listing agent so another real estate group came to take photos and list our home on the MLS. This was new for us as we'd both only lived in apartment complexes that were a single complex - our building is owned by a whole bunch of different folks who bought individual units for investment purposes and such. Why don't we buy our place and it's 1184 square feet of living space? The asking price is $638,000 and there's a 20% down payment required and our visas expire in 3 years. So - renting is the way to go for us. The irony is thick though - we just completed a major renovation project on our house in Clemson and our apartment building is now going through a major renovation. I've laughed when folks complain about how long it's taking because I feel right at home, and even liberated, as this is NOT a DIY project like I'm used to. And the transformation is pretty amazing - it looks lovely - which is probably why the owner of our place wants to sell it. All that aside - it stinks to have to clean the place to show - we've just finished going through that in Clemson. Folks have suggested we not clean it or leave dirty dishes in the sink and what-not, but our hope is that if it sells, another investor will buy it, hence we can stay...so the showings are a bit of an interview for us as tenants too - and so we have to stay on top of it. That, combined with the fact that we're not telling the kids (figure there's no need to upset them until we know if we have to move), is a pain. I'm terrible at keeping secrets - really terrible. And I don't like unknowns...so we've just decided to trust that all will be well and things will work out as they're meant to...and we laugh, because really, this is actually very funny. Who'd have ever thought 2 months into this we'd be facing the sell of our apartment - at least we've got time. They have to honor our lease through July so there's no need to get all wound up, right?
I've learned a lot in this border crossing experience. My appreciation for small businesses has been renewed as has my commitment to do my best to give mom and pop shops my business. I've learned that big companies count on you to weary of a fight and that they bank on you giving up because they make it laborious. But I've also learned that if you don't give up, a big business might just realize that doing the 'right' thing is their best option. Sadly - they still see it as an option - carefully weighed against the power of the almighty dollar and some statistical report that lists our business as an impersonal unit without regard for the people behind it. I also learned these big businesses don't do any favors for their employees and I feel for the folks who work on their frontlines. They have to deal with a lot of grumpy people and that must suck. I've also re-learned that the most constant thing in life is change and the best way to manage is to embrace it and roll with it because fighting just makes you callous and tired. And if you step back and look at the big picture, some of the curve balls make for the best laughs of all. So, this weekend, we'll cross the border a couple more times and what we'll do in addition to paying Verizon is this:
-Get the kids some new tennis shoes
-buy cheese - it's all sorts of expensive here (like $8.00 for a 2 cup bag of shredded cheddar...not kidding)
-head to Seattle for some coffee and some time in the space needle
-laugh with my kids and husband as we wait in line to cross an imaginary line
-celebrate that we're able to move pretty freely between two countries and be grateful for the folks who made that possible - especially during this remembrance weekend
-come back to our home with a little taste of our former home and get right back at it
For I know this: life is about getting back at it - not stopping - and laughing when you can think of nothing else to do. These laughable moments are holy ones - so are the ones that make us cry. And life is about relationships - with dear, dear friends who are in the midst of their own battles (many that are much more significant than mine with Verizon). I relish the value of a friend's voice on the other end of the phone or the comfort of a hug when there just aren't words. And I miss the nearness of so many who I hold dear while being grateful for new relationships that make my experience of the world richer. We're all in it together folks and that's something I'll never take for granted.
Friday, November 1, 2013
Halloween
Halloween is serious business in this corner of the world and to be honest, Halloween isn't my favorite holiday but it got a real boost in the arm this year. The past few years Halloween has felt enormously rushed - I don't know if it was because we would trick or treat earlier in the day or if, since I was teaching, I'd tired of the actual day well before it's official arrival. Nonetheless, we had a lot of fun. Decorations have been up for a couple of weeks in various forms - islands in roundabouts have caution tape and skeletons and pumpkins hanging from their trees, the mall had scenes where you could have your picture made, faux spider webs encompassed staircases. So, I had an inkling that Halloween Day would not disappoint. I was struck as we walked to school and as I ran errands by the number of adults who began their day donning a costume too! We saw Luke Skywalker (complete with light saber), a butterfly princess, and several folks in witch hats on our way to school. The cast of Star Wars was rounded out as I ran errands and I also encountered a creepy clown, 2 hippies, Luigi, Zombie Woody (from Toy Story), a zombie ninja, Pikachu, some blue sort of person with a large hat (though not a Smurf) and - my personal favorite - Steve Erkel - all in grown up form...before noon even hit!
Halloween Day started as soon as we woke up - naturally. All the kids dress up at our school which was really fun. Lydia decided the giraffe costume she had picked out weeks ago was no longer her favorite so she was a ballerina and Henry was Iron Patriot. I got to be 'that mom' and made fun snacks for Henry's class (Lydia's class got to make their own in class - rice krispie treat pumpkins) and spent the early part of the morning assembling 50 'spiders' out of cocktail sausages and potato sticks. The older kids of the school transformed the 4th floor of the school into a "Haunted Hallway" and spent a good deal of their day serving as actors in the school-wide haunted house. Lights were off and strobe lights did their dance as other classes in the school took their walk through the haunted house - there were screams and groans and spooky music and everything. The little ones came through with the lights on and music off, if they wanted to, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't grateful that neither of my kids' classes made it to the haunted hallway because I'm pretty sure I'd have had roommates last night if they had. Nonetheless it was fun. AND - almost every class in the school was ushered to the mall about a block from school, along with their costumed teachers (Henry's teacher was a penguin and Lydia's teacher was Minnie Mouse and the principal was the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz) to go trick or treating! How cool is that??? They came home with some serious loot before we even got started with our evening festivities! And, boy, were the evening festivities something else...
Once we got past the fact that Lydia no longer wanted to be a giraffe and she embraced it, and Henry donned the Iron Patriot mask I had driven to West Van to purchase while they were at school since the one we'd ordered wasn't quite right, we were off (despite a missing Iron Patriot glove).
It was a damp, crisp night with leaves scattered on the sidewalks and dark was falling fast. We headed up Robson Street (the main thoroughfare in our part of town) to Bute Street where we'd heard the decorations were the best. Now - for my US friends reading - 'decorations' does not adequately describe the reality. There were actual vignettes - some that took up half a block - of sideshows complete with folks in costume, homes that looked like pirate hideouts, costumed folk on porches tickling the heads of unsuspecting passersby with a net on a pulley up in a tree. A-MA-ZING. This was Halloween on steroids!
Mall Fun :)
Halloween Day started as soon as we woke up - naturally. All the kids dress up at our school which was really fun. Lydia decided the giraffe costume she had picked out weeks ago was no longer her favorite so she was a ballerina and Henry was Iron Patriot. I got to be 'that mom' and made fun snacks for Henry's class (Lydia's class got to make their own in class - rice krispie treat pumpkins) and spent the early part of the morning assembling 50 'spiders' out of cocktail sausages and potato sticks. The older kids of the school transformed the 4th floor of the school into a "Haunted Hallway" and spent a good deal of their day serving as actors in the school-wide haunted house. Lights were off and strobe lights did their dance as other classes in the school took their walk through the haunted house - there were screams and groans and spooky music and everything. The little ones came through with the lights on and music off, if they wanted to, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't grateful that neither of my kids' classes made it to the haunted hallway because I'm pretty sure I'd have had roommates last night if they had. Nonetheless it was fun. AND - almost every class in the school was ushered to the mall about a block from school, along with their costumed teachers (Henry's teacher was a penguin and Lydia's teacher was Minnie Mouse and the principal was the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz) to go trick or treating! How cool is that??? They came home with some serious loot before we even got started with our evening festivities! And, boy, were the evening festivities something else...
Once we got past the fact that Lydia no longer wanted to be a giraffe and she embraced it, and Henry donned the Iron Patriot mask I had driven to West Van to purchase while they were at school since the one we'd ordered wasn't quite right, we were off (despite a missing Iron Patriot glove).
This is one of the homes where we trick or treated - cool, huh?
We fortuitously ran into several friends from Lydia's class and we all toured the West End together in search of gobs of candy and it was great fun. The surprising part was the fact that even though there were scary looking costumes and some of the houses had spooky decorations, the community's embrace of its children and their wonder seemed to remove any fear factor from the night. The kids were delighted! Candy spewed forth - and they even earned extra at one house where you had to dance for your candy - it was a beautiful scene to see kids and adults who were complete strangers, in assumed personas, boogey-ing to "The Monster Mash". We meandered on and came to an intersection where we heard shouts of, "Henry! Henry!" And several of Henry's classmates came over and they inspected each others 'take' from the night and it hit me. Here we were - barely two months in our new hometown and home had become so much more than just a physical address. We have found community in relationships with people who will be dear to us long after our address changes again and I was warmed to my bones. And I was tickled that we had such a 'normal' holiday experience - enjoying the excitement of Halloween, running into friends in an area where we live, go to school and walk every day. We got home, gorged ourselves a bit on the night's treats and headed for bed. And then, as if on cue, the fireworks started! Oh yes - Halloween here is indeed a call for fireworks and the kids watched, mesmerized (or catatonic maybe as they were exhausted) as they sporadically burst outside their window. It was the perfect end to a great family night and we were full to overflowing with gratitude for life leading us here and teaching us new things and putting us in this part of the city among some great people.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Apartment Living
So I've had more than a couple people ask about what it's like to live in an apartment after being in our house and for the most part it's really great. But it got me to thinking, now that we're almost eight weeks into this new normal, about what is great and what I miss. Naturally, I made a list...and it evolved into a synopsis of what I love about Vancouver and what I loved about Clemson. And it also made me want to share our new home with folks back in SC so there are photos (even of the awfully ugly chandelier that used to hang above our dining table...it's since found the dumpster).
What I Miss:
-For starters, I miss my family - I realize I took for granted the frequency with which we visited and chatted and shared meals and I understand on a whole new level how true it was when people told us we were lucky to have us all living within 15 minutes of each other. And I realize how lucky our children are to have had all their cousins and grandparents within an hour or so. I hope to be close again one day...and even a 2 hour drive would seem like minutes comparatively.
-Our backyard - there was something so lovely about saying to the kids, "Go play outside until I finish cooking dinner." Now our only outside space during my cooking is our balcony which is just off the kitchen so it accomplishes little to send them there :) And I can't send them to the pool downstairs alone, but we've managed a new routine that typically involves Lydia's American Girl doll and Henry's Legos. Somehow, it's not the same but nonetheless it works.
-My garbage disposal!!!! I miss this more than an ice maker and almost as much as our backyard.
-Longtime "soul" friends - don't get me wrong, I've got some great friends here that I am deeply grateful to have in my life. There's just something that comes with familiarity - after you're friends for years you don't have that awkward "do-they-think-I'm-stalking-them-because-I've-invited-them-to-lunch-and-insert-myself-into-their-conversation" deal. And familiarity lends an ease in even extending an invitation - maybe it's just me, but I feel like you often need to let your friendship marinate a little before delving into meal-sharing which I realize actually comes from me not wanting to make new friends uncomfortable either... And then if you invite people over to your apartment and you don't have your backyard, where do the kids play? In our kids' room that's barely big enough for the 2 of them? WAAHHHH - what's a girl to do? For starters - some of us are planning a Super Bowl Party, in theory - I'll have more wisdom on the subject after that soiree.
-Our church family - if you're reading this and you go to Fort Hill Presbyterian Church (thanks for reading, by the way), say an extra thank you prayer for the family that is Fort Hill. You don't realize how special it is until it's not there (I suppose many would say that about their own church families), but I'm really grateful for the time we shared in that community of faith and for the relationships we built there that continue to sustain us even 3600+ miles away.
-Football Saturdays in Clemson - really, y'all, they're something special and I miss the energy that comes with 80,000 fans packed into our little town. We still wear our orange and cheer on the Tigers on Saturday (and it's really nice that 8PM games start at 5PM Pacific Time, so we aren't up quite as late). Funny enough - the local CFL team is the BC Lions and their colors are orange and blue and paw prints are their thing too - we fit right in :)
What I Love:
-Walking - we have to remind ourselves to drive the car once every week or two just to be sure the battery doesn't die. This is REMARKABLE - and it's NORMAL! Philip and I laughed because, in truth, the distance I walk to grocery shop is about the same as walking from our old house to the new Clemson Publix, but it never even entered my mind to walk there. I think when we're back in the States the biggest adjustment will be 'learning' to drive again!
-Cultural Diversity - OK, get this. Between Henry and Lydia's classes the following cultural backgrounds are represented (that I know of): Russian, Filipino, Ukrainian, Mexican, Korean, Japanese, Chinese, Saudi Arabian, Indonesian and yes, a few native Canadians. I LOVE THIS! Basically it's really amazing to encounter all of these languages and traditions but the overarching miracle of it all is that our children are developing opinions of other traditions by the discovery of commonalities. They will grow to characterize other places world-wide based on actual relationships - not some image painted in the media. For this I'm deeply grateful and I'm deeply encouraged to see all of these diverse children and people living in community and laughing together, sharing together, living together. It's beautiful.
-9AM school start time - it's fabulous. Not a single rushed morning has been had in our house (except maybe one) and we eat breakfast together and walk together and talk together and sing together on the way to school. I'm a fan. I also really resonate with the school philosophy and teaching methods - the classes are outside a lot (Henry's taking a bike safety class tomorrow as part of his schooling and they're even bringing their bikes to practice!) and the whole atmosphere is nice.
-Nightly family dinners - we eat dinner together each night as a whole family of four and that's lovely (and a switch from last year when we were often only 3). And I've been able to rediscover how much I enjoy cooking and we've had yummy meals and shared rich conversation.
-Downsizing - WHAT A GIFT! I was intimidated at first by the thought of scrunching our life into a 1184 square foot apartment, but it's been almost holy. And I realize how disconnected our family had become in our house - the kids would play outside or upstairs or watch a movie on their own while I was in the kitchen and Philip was downstairs and we'd come together for a 20 minute meal and retreat to our separate activities. It worked, don't get me wrong. But now - there's one TV and we try to keep it off because sometimes the negotiations just aren't worth it. That means that after dinner we play Spoons or Go Fish or we go for a walk around our building - sometimes to get gelato [which - if you're wondering - is to ice cream what Tiffany is to Wal-Mart...delish!]. We are together just being a family and I'm energized by that.
-Proximity to cool stuff - we're 20 minutes from a very cool fish hatchery (Capilano Fish Hatchery/Dam) where we watched salmon spawn last weekend; we're 30 minutes from skiing; we're a walk from the beach; and only 2 hours from Seattle. It's pretty great.
So there you have it - the official compare/contrast of Clemson and Vancouver from this mama's perspective. And now - without further adieu - pictures of our little home:
Our kitchen and our balcony - we're fortunate to have full-size appliances.
The living area
The living area is open to the dining area (note chandelier)
This lovely chandelier was loved by someone - however, the wonky light + the two-toned brass/chrome look + the faux tassels weren't our thing. It's been replaced with a low profile ceiling fixture, but I had to share this as it is unlike anything I'd ever seen.
The Master Bedroom
The kids' room - completely mismatched but just how they want it! And there are two bathrooms, but I figure those didn't warrant a photo :) We have lots of windows and I love that too - and great views of the city/water from them as well.
What I Miss:
-For starters, I miss my family - I realize I took for granted the frequency with which we visited and chatted and shared meals and I understand on a whole new level how true it was when people told us we were lucky to have us all living within 15 minutes of each other. And I realize how lucky our children are to have had all their cousins and grandparents within an hour or so. I hope to be close again one day...and even a 2 hour drive would seem like minutes comparatively.
-Our backyard - there was something so lovely about saying to the kids, "Go play outside until I finish cooking dinner." Now our only outside space during my cooking is our balcony which is just off the kitchen so it accomplishes little to send them there :) And I can't send them to the pool downstairs alone, but we've managed a new routine that typically involves Lydia's American Girl doll and Henry's Legos. Somehow, it's not the same but nonetheless it works.
-My garbage disposal!!!! I miss this more than an ice maker and almost as much as our backyard.
-Longtime "soul" friends - don't get me wrong, I've got some great friends here that I am deeply grateful to have in my life. There's just something that comes with familiarity - after you're friends for years you don't have that awkward "do-they-think-I'm-stalking-them-because-I've-invited-them-to-lunch-and-insert-myself-into-their-conversation" deal. And familiarity lends an ease in even extending an invitation - maybe it's just me, but I feel like you often need to let your friendship marinate a little before delving into meal-sharing which I realize actually comes from me not wanting to make new friends uncomfortable either... And then if you invite people over to your apartment and you don't have your backyard, where do the kids play? In our kids' room that's barely big enough for the 2 of them? WAAHHHH - what's a girl to do? For starters - some of us are planning a Super Bowl Party, in theory - I'll have more wisdom on the subject after that soiree.
-Our church family - if you're reading this and you go to Fort Hill Presbyterian Church (thanks for reading, by the way), say an extra thank you prayer for the family that is Fort Hill. You don't realize how special it is until it's not there (I suppose many would say that about their own church families), but I'm really grateful for the time we shared in that community of faith and for the relationships we built there that continue to sustain us even 3600+ miles away.
-Football Saturdays in Clemson - really, y'all, they're something special and I miss the energy that comes with 80,000 fans packed into our little town. We still wear our orange and cheer on the Tigers on Saturday (and it's really nice that 8PM games start at 5PM Pacific Time, so we aren't up quite as late). Funny enough - the local CFL team is the BC Lions and their colors are orange and blue and paw prints are their thing too - we fit right in :)
What I Love:
-Walking - we have to remind ourselves to drive the car once every week or two just to be sure the battery doesn't die. This is REMARKABLE - and it's NORMAL! Philip and I laughed because, in truth, the distance I walk to grocery shop is about the same as walking from our old house to the new Clemson Publix, but it never even entered my mind to walk there. I think when we're back in the States the biggest adjustment will be 'learning' to drive again!
-Cultural Diversity - OK, get this. Between Henry and Lydia's classes the following cultural backgrounds are represented (that I know of): Russian, Filipino, Ukrainian, Mexican, Korean, Japanese, Chinese, Saudi Arabian, Indonesian and yes, a few native Canadians. I LOVE THIS! Basically it's really amazing to encounter all of these languages and traditions but the overarching miracle of it all is that our children are developing opinions of other traditions by the discovery of commonalities. They will grow to characterize other places world-wide based on actual relationships - not some image painted in the media. For this I'm deeply grateful and I'm deeply encouraged to see all of these diverse children and people living in community and laughing together, sharing together, living together. It's beautiful.
-9AM school start time - it's fabulous. Not a single rushed morning has been had in our house (except maybe one) and we eat breakfast together and walk together and talk together and sing together on the way to school. I'm a fan. I also really resonate with the school philosophy and teaching methods - the classes are outside a lot (Henry's taking a bike safety class tomorrow as part of his schooling and they're even bringing their bikes to practice!) and the whole atmosphere is nice.
-Nightly family dinners - we eat dinner together each night as a whole family of four and that's lovely (and a switch from last year when we were often only 3). And I've been able to rediscover how much I enjoy cooking and we've had yummy meals and shared rich conversation.
-Downsizing - WHAT A GIFT! I was intimidated at first by the thought of scrunching our life into a 1184 square foot apartment, but it's been almost holy. And I realize how disconnected our family had become in our house - the kids would play outside or upstairs or watch a movie on their own while I was in the kitchen and Philip was downstairs and we'd come together for a 20 minute meal and retreat to our separate activities. It worked, don't get me wrong. But now - there's one TV and we try to keep it off because sometimes the negotiations just aren't worth it. That means that after dinner we play Spoons or Go Fish or we go for a walk around our building - sometimes to get gelato [which - if you're wondering - is to ice cream what Tiffany is to Wal-Mart...delish!]. We are together just being a family and I'm energized by that.
-Proximity to cool stuff - we're 20 minutes from a very cool fish hatchery (Capilano Fish Hatchery/Dam) where we watched salmon spawn last weekend; we're 30 minutes from skiing; we're a walk from the beach; and only 2 hours from Seattle. It's pretty great.
So there you have it - the official compare/contrast of Clemson and Vancouver from this mama's perspective. And now - without further adieu - pictures of our little home:
Giant Fir Hiking Trail - Capilano Hatchery/Dam
Capilano Dam viewpoint
Entrance to Hiking Trails @ Capilano
Capilano River
Coho Salmon - there were windows for you to watch the salmon jump uphill against the current - it was really fascinating to see!
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
How an Accidental 10-12K leads to the Olympic Village
It's been quite a week - ponderings on a garbage chute led to an accidental 10-12K (walking, not running and it wasn't a group initiative - just me...and it didn't involve my getting lost though I know that's hard to believe). And we capped it off with a completely unplanned (and unpacked) trip to Whistler where we stayed in Olympic Village. My life makes me laugh!
I heard a young man on television this week talking about life and how it's really all about duality and I wish I remembered his name because I think he might be one of he smartest people I've ever heard. It's true really - if we don't have some down times, some crappy times, some blue times (whatever you call them) how do we fully appreciated the good times? So - two posts ago I was honest about the lonlies and how they find their way in and how I've adopted this plan to tell them "Welcome! But only for a little while" and here I am about to confess my life's absurdity and spontaneous explorations as an admitted highlight of this funny adventure of life my family and I are living. In these last two weeks I've lived life's duality, as most of us have, really. And I'm grateful for its polar nature for without one it's hard to get through/fully enjoy the other.
Accidental 10-12K - not your everyday activity, indeed. Yet somehow the fact that I walked it seems to take away from its drama. I respectfully disagree. Here's how it went down. Each morning I drop the kids off at school and then have my daily walk - I shoot for an hour each day and I try to take a different route each day as well. This was Thursday - I've been battling this sinus/cold thing and found that I could breathe while walking/standing much better than while sitting. I usually walk straight to the seawall to begin my walks because it's lovely to be on the water and see barges, folks practicing Tai Chi, seagulls, etc. and this morning was no different. I headed down to the water and decided today was the day to turn right. This may seem like no big deal, but Philip and I have a tendency to get into a rut in our walking patterns so we've become more intentional about turning the opposite of our norm having realized we've missed out on some pretty cool sights by always turning the same direction (that's a blog post of its own I'm certain). Today was the day to defy the norm - it was a sunny, blue skied Thursday full of promise and a cool breeze and I couldn't resist.
I started at English Bay and headed toward Second Beach where there's a public, heated pool to be used during the summer months - that's as far as I've ever gotten before. So I passed Second Beach with no idea what lay before me other than the remaining portion of the seawall. Now - let me clarify - I knew I was walking toward Stanley Park - I knew the general direction I needed to go to get back home and I was NOT lost. I was just turning right. Beyond Second Beach there, naturally, was Third Beach and the Teahouse - which I'd passed on the epic adventure through Stanley Park with the kids that ended with our first family hitchhiking experience. I kept going through the gates that can close when rock slides occur, despite the fact we'd spent some time that morning in the PAC meeting (Parents Advisory Council - think PTO) discussing the need for earthquake preparation and kits and redezvous points and such. I even kept my personal paranoia about earthquakes at bay whilst walking so that I could see the sheer rock faces standing boldly above the water and notice the fact that there's nothing spray painted on them! It's amazing really - nothing denoting which graduating class had gotten there last or anything - the little 6" X 6" signs asking folks to keep them natural actually seemed effective. I kept walking and realized I'd been walking for some time but that at this point I was too far in to turn back. I came upon Siwash Rock - a rock outcropping in the water with a plaque commemorating the life of someone who jumped from it to their death - unaware it was low tide. I'd never seen a plaque quite like that. Shortly after passing Siwash Rock I realized I had wandered much further than I ever thought turning right would take me. I came face to face with the Lions Gate Bridge - a Vancouver landmark that lights at night and that carries folks out of Vancouver via the Sea to Sky Highway (more on that in a moment). And then I walked UNDER it...and found myself in the exact spot where the kids and I walked the day we took our lives into our own hands and took a ride with strangers. Now - it occurred to me at this point the irony in the situation but I plugged on. That all too familiar feeling of panic began to rise as I realized I'd mentioned to Philip I'd be home by 11AM and that he might be coming home for lunch. Oops. It was 11:45 at this point. I still don't have a cell phone and there really was no way for me to let him know that wasn't going to happen. But, I again found an oasis in the desert - the Totems! I walked over to the Stanley Park Totems and was grateful to find a gift shop for three reasons: 1 - they had public restrooms 2 - they sold water and I was thirsty and 3 - perhaps, just maybe there were public phones. Reasons 1 & 2 turned out to be valid - and reason #3, well, payphones are apparently a thing of the past. But Vancouver hospitality again reigned supreme and the kind woman at the gift shop offered to let me use the shop's phone. I called Philip to let him know he'd be flying solo for lunch as I still had 45 minutes left to walk before I got home. He laughed. Finally - after about 2 hours I unlocked the door to our apartment and sat down most grateful for our couch. I had walked the entire length of the seawall (9K) + the distance from school to the seawall and the distance from the seawall to our building - all in all somewhere between 10-12K. Thus ended my first 10-12K experience and I never intend to do that with running feet. Ever.
Saturday we drove over the Lions Gate Bridge on our way to the Brittania Mine Museum or so I thought. We hopped onto the Sea to Sky Highway and I must say it's one of the most beautiful highways I've ever been on - comparable to the drive on I-5 along the Columbia River running along the border between Washington State and Canada. I'd wanted to visit the Mine Museum when we were here last November and we just didn't have time or transportation. So I was pumped. Again - it was a gorgeous day - sunny, blue skies, just cool enough that you didn't get hot. We knew the mine was between Vancouver and Whistler because we'd passed right by it almost a year ago. We struck out around lunch time and by the time we neared the museum it was clear that we needed to get everyone fed for it to be a positive experience. So - we drove past the mine into Squamish - and the kids didn't even notice. Then, Philip and I started to get sneaky. Lydia has said she wanted to go back to Whistler since the moment we left last November (at which time she cried about leaving), so while at McDonald's Philip booked a room at the hotel where we had stayed using points he had accumulated and off we went. We asked the kids to help us look for the mine and acted like we must've messed up, but we promised we'd stop in the next town for directions.
Now - you must realize at this point we were totally unprepared for this. Totally. This was a spur of the moment, McDonald's parking lot decision - we had no toothbrush, no jammies, nothing. We pulled into Whistler with the kids shouting recognition of sites previously seen and praised them for their idea to stop at the hotel where we stayed for directions to the illusive mine. They dutifully followed Philip to the reception desk where he let the attendant know we were there to check in and slowly...very slowly...realization came. Their smiles broadened, their own lust for adventure awakened and we went up to our room without a care for the lack of toothbrushes or makeup. And we were off - off to Olympic Village for absolute necessities for our spur of the moment overnight trip - off to revisit places we thought we'd only see once in our lives when we were here a year ago - off to find that restaurant we were going to visit but were just too tired. And it was fun. The fall colors were perfect. The ski runs were now overrun with folks on their bikes - the helmets were familiar tho. And we explored. The river that had been frozen the last time we saw it was now framed with colorful fall leaves. The Olympic Rings that had snow on them last were now stately in their austerity. The playground called and the kids ran forth. The Thanksgiving sales spewed forth all we needed for our jaunt and then some.
We still haven't made it to the mine - but it'll be there the whole time we're here & we hope to go next week. We're home now and the sun is setting on another gorgeous day with colors that even the camera can't capture to do them justice. And I'm reminded that life, indeed, is about duality. When the lonlies creep in again as I'm sure they will, I'll welcome them. And then I'll regale them with tales about my absurdly long trek around the seawall and I'll invite them to laugh with me at myself. To laugh at my propensity to dive right in for the sake of turning another direction without thought of its unforeseen outcome. I'll tell them about the fast one we pulled on the kids as we wandered to the home of the last Winter Olympic Games and then I'll tell them about the colors that light the sky at night out of our window and then I'll send them on their way. I'll send them on as I recall the reasons I'm grateful for this life I live and for the people who make it rich as we celebrate our first Canadian Thanksgiving. And I'll find hope for the world through the renewal of wonder that only a new place can bring.
I heard a young man on television this week talking about life and how it's really all about duality and I wish I remembered his name because I think he might be one of he smartest people I've ever heard. It's true really - if we don't have some down times, some crappy times, some blue times (whatever you call them) how do we fully appreciated the good times? So - two posts ago I was honest about the lonlies and how they find their way in and how I've adopted this plan to tell them "Welcome! But only for a little while" and here I am about to confess my life's absurdity and spontaneous explorations as an admitted highlight of this funny adventure of life my family and I are living. In these last two weeks I've lived life's duality, as most of us have, really. And I'm grateful for its polar nature for without one it's hard to get through/fully enjoy the other.
Accidental 10-12K - not your everyday activity, indeed. Yet somehow the fact that I walked it seems to take away from its drama. I respectfully disagree. Here's how it went down. Each morning I drop the kids off at school and then have my daily walk - I shoot for an hour each day and I try to take a different route each day as well. This was Thursday - I've been battling this sinus/cold thing and found that I could breathe while walking/standing much better than while sitting. I usually walk straight to the seawall to begin my walks because it's lovely to be on the water and see barges, folks practicing Tai Chi, seagulls, etc. and this morning was no different. I headed down to the water and decided today was the day to turn right. This may seem like no big deal, but Philip and I have a tendency to get into a rut in our walking patterns so we've become more intentional about turning the opposite of our norm having realized we've missed out on some pretty cool sights by always turning the same direction (that's a blog post of its own I'm certain). Today was the day to defy the norm - it was a sunny, blue skied Thursday full of promise and a cool breeze and I couldn't resist.
I started at English Bay and headed toward Second Beach where there's a public, heated pool to be used during the summer months - that's as far as I've ever gotten before. So I passed Second Beach with no idea what lay before me other than the remaining portion of the seawall. Now - let me clarify - I knew I was walking toward Stanley Park - I knew the general direction I needed to go to get back home and I was NOT lost. I was just turning right. Beyond Second Beach there, naturally, was Third Beach and the Teahouse - which I'd passed on the epic adventure through Stanley Park with the kids that ended with our first family hitchhiking experience. I kept going through the gates that can close when rock slides occur, despite the fact we'd spent some time that morning in the PAC meeting (Parents Advisory Council - think PTO) discussing the need for earthquake preparation and kits and redezvous points and such. I even kept my personal paranoia about earthquakes at bay whilst walking so that I could see the sheer rock faces standing boldly above the water and notice the fact that there's nothing spray painted on them! It's amazing really - nothing denoting which graduating class had gotten there last or anything - the little 6" X 6" signs asking folks to keep them natural actually seemed effective. I kept walking and realized I'd been walking for some time but that at this point I was too far in to turn back. I came upon Siwash Rock - a rock outcropping in the water with a plaque commemorating the life of someone who jumped from it to their death - unaware it was low tide. I'd never seen a plaque quite like that. Shortly after passing Siwash Rock I realized I had wandered much further than I ever thought turning right would take me. I came face to face with the Lions Gate Bridge - a Vancouver landmark that lights at night and that carries folks out of Vancouver via the Sea to Sky Highway (more on that in a moment). And then I walked UNDER it...and found myself in the exact spot where the kids and I walked the day we took our lives into our own hands and took a ride with strangers. Now - it occurred to me at this point the irony in the situation but I plugged on. That all too familiar feeling of panic began to rise as I realized I'd mentioned to Philip I'd be home by 11AM and that he might be coming home for lunch. Oops. It was 11:45 at this point. I still don't have a cell phone and there really was no way for me to let him know that wasn't going to happen. But, I again found an oasis in the desert - the Totems! I walked over to the Stanley Park Totems and was grateful to find a gift shop for three reasons: 1 - they had public restrooms 2 - they sold water and I was thirsty and 3 - perhaps, just maybe there were public phones. Reasons 1 & 2 turned out to be valid - and reason #3, well, payphones are apparently a thing of the past. But Vancouver hospitality again reigned supreme and the kind woman at the gift shop offered to let me use the shop's phone. I called Philip to let him know he'd be flying solo for lunch as I still had 45 minutes left to walk before I got home. He laughed. Finally - after about 2 hours I unlocked the door to our apartment and sat down most grateful for our couch. I had walked the entire length of the seawall (9K) + the distance from school to the seawall and the distance from the seawall to our building - all in all somewhere between 10-12K. Thus ended my first 10-12K experience and I never intend to do that with running feet. Ever.
Saturday we drove over the Lions Gate Bridge on our way to the Brittania Mine Museum or so I thought. We hopped onto the Sea to Sky Highway and I must say it's one of the most beautiful highways I've ever been on - comparable to the drive on I-5 along the Columbia River running along the border between Washington State and Canada. I'd wanted to visit the Mine Museum when we were here last November and we just didn't have time or transportation. So I was pumped. Again - it was a gorgeous day - sunny, blue skies, just cool enough that you didn't get hot. We knew the mine was between Vancouver and Whistler because we'd passed right by it almost a year ago. We struck out around lunch time and by the time we neared the museum it was clear that we needed to get everyone fed for it to be a positive experience. So - we drove past the mine into Squamish - and the kids didn't even notice. Then, Philip and I started to get sneaky. Lydia has said she wanted to go back to Whistler since the moment we left last November (at which time she cried about leaving), so while at McDonald's Philip booked a room at the hotel where we had stayed using points he had accumulated and off we went. We asked the kids to help us look for the mine and acted like we must've messed up, but we promised we'd stop in the next town for directions.
Now - you must realize at this point we were totally unprepared for this. Totally. This was a spur of the moment, McDonald's parking lot decision - we had no toothbrush, no jammies, nothing. We pulled into Whistler with the kids shouting recognition of sites previously seen and praised them for their idea to stop at the hotel where we stayed for directions to the illusive mine. They dutifully followed Philip to the reception desk where he let the attendant know we were there to check in and slowly...very slowly...realization came. Their smiles broadened, their own lust for adventure awakened and we went up to our room without a care for the lack of toothbrushes or makeup. And we were off - off to Olympic Village for absolute necessities for our spur of the moment overnight trip - off to revisit places we thought we'd only see once in our lives when we were here a year ago - off to find that restaurant we were going to visit but were just too tired. And it was fun. The fall colors were perfect. The ski runs were now overrun with folks on their bikes - the helmets were familiar tho. And we explored. The river that had been frozen the last time we saw it was now framed with colorful fall leaves. The Olympic Rings that had snow on them last were now stately in their austerity. The playground called and the kids ran forth. The Thanksgiving sales spewed forth all we needed for our jaunt and then some.
We still haven't made it to the mine - but it'll be there the whole time we're here & we hope to go next week. We're home now and the sun is setting on another gorgeous day with colors that even the camera can't capture to do them justice. And I'm reminded that life, indeed, is about duality. When the lonlies creep in again as I'm sure they will, I'll welcome them. And then I'll regale them with tales about my absurdly long trek around the seawall and I'll invite them to laugh with me at myself. To laugh at my propensity to dive right in for the sake of turning another direction without thought of its unforeseen outcome. I'll tell them about the fast one we pulled on the kids as we wandered to the home of the last Winter Olympic Games and then I'll tell them about the colors that light the sky at night out of our window and then I'll send them on their way. I'll send them on as I recall the reasons I'm grateful for this life I live and for the people who make it rich as we celebrate our first Canadian Thanksgiving. And I'll find hope for the world through the renewal of wonder that only a new place can bring.
Monday, October 7, 2013
The Chute
- Garbage chute closed between 10PM and 8AM [good to know]
- Items strictly forbidden down the chute are:
- Chemicals [understandable]
- Paint Cans [tsk tsk to the offenders]
- Styrofoam
- Construction Material
- Glass
- Wood
- Electronics: TV, stereos, speaker, telephones, computers [interesting]
- Bedding, pillows, blankets, cardboard
- Clothes
- Furniture
- Car Bumpers [really?!?!]
The policy goes on to explain the recycling options available in the building as well as external recycling centers we may use. However, I got stuck on the whole car bumper thing. Consider with me for a moment the sheer logistics of this endeavor. First, I admit my assumption that since car bumpers are listed as forbidden garbage chute refuse, someone must have tried to dispose of one in this manner at some point. This humors me.
Our parking is below our building - we park 3 floors below ground next to a concrete pillar and a space-greedy Volvo. To get into the building from the parking garage, you must go through 2 doors (one of which you must unlock with a key). Given that car bumpers are 5+ feet in length and that you have to make a 90 degree turn into the 2nd door, this is a feat of contortionist proportions requiring almost as much skill as making the top bunk bed! Then - you must use your key fob to access the elevator - all the while holding onto said bumper and making sure you don't mar the elevator. We live on the 9th floor, but functionally it's the 12th floor as there are 3 floors with no level number assigned to them - one of which is the lobby...on the ground floor...that has access to several dumpsters. Assuming you make it past the lobby with no one noticing you riding the elevator with a car bumper in hand, you get to your floor and shimmy it out of the elevator where you find 2 more doors with a 90 degree turn in between that you must clear before reaching the chute [I'm already tired at this point and would've given up on the bumper down the chute idea long before now]. The door to the little (and by little I mean 3' X 3' room - max) room that houses the garbage chute opens inward and you'd have to have the entire bumper in that little room to even consider getting it into the chute - so you squeeze past the door with the bumper and the door closes leaving you with a 5' bumper in a 3' X 3' room and a 12" X 18" hole to put it in. *ASSUMING* you could open the chute with one hand and prop the bumper up with the other to hold the chute open, I think it a modern engineering feat that you could actually make the bumper fit in that little, angled, doorway to trash-dom!
Alas - this is the picture that I drew in my head as I headed home this morning on my 6-7 block walk from grocery shopping with my snazzy new purple pull cart - and friends, it had to be shared. What I know is that if anyone is ridiculous enough to ruin my access to the chute because they throw any of the forbidden items down it, I'll be really sad and I hope I don't ever know who the offender(s) happens to be for I would have a hard time being cordial. That's all for now...enjoy your Monday.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Crisis of Belief
We will have been in Vancouver for exactly one month - hard to believe. And, since we've only been here a month, we're still in the process of discovery. I feel like a detective working for attorneys preparing for a high profile court case - trying to drink up every detail this city will share and integrate it into my reality. We've been operating by an unofficial rule - no eating at the same restaurant twice, walk home a different way every chance you get, explore with reckless abandon. It's addictive, really, especially since my quest for information has turned up little that doesn't resonate with me - at least on a philosophical level. And that's unnerving because I can tell it's changing me. Now - hear me clearly say that unnerving isn't a bad thing necessarily; it's just change can be daunting and tends to challenge the comfort level I had with my former reality. I knew this would happen - and, frankly, was intrigued by it. I'm one of those weirdos who kind of likes change - I get bored with status quo and same old/same old. However, my past experiences have been reflective ones - the change happened within and I didn't see it until it was over and looked back. This time, though, I'm feeling the metamorphosis...and that's the weird/exciting part. I don't know if it has to do with my actually having time to reflect every day and live into the change or if it's me having given myself permission to tap into my true self. Either way - it's happening.
What Resonates with Me:
Much of this shifting in thought processes revolves around our children because I see the positive benefits firsthand in them. I arrived here *assuming* the schools are intense, academically advanced and focused on achievement. At this point, I'd say I'm really wrong about that [and I've learned that I make a LOT of assumptions - without knowing it]. The school that we're part of feels really good - and while I'm not overly confident that we'll get back to the States as foregone valedictorians, I am very confident we'll come back with children who've been taught how to live as good people. I kind of chewed my nails as I dialed back my 'hurry up and get to work' rhetoric and my 'what do you mean you're working on subtraction and not division?' yammering. And my dialing it back was affirmed almost instantly when I saw grade 6 girls take my grade 1 girl under their wing and allow her to play with them kindly instead of shooing away the 'little girl' that was trying to get into their grown up world. At that moment I realized that I'd wanted my children to return to the States having been trained in citizenship and mutual respect because, let's face it, that'll get them farther in life than diagramming sentences.
We parents are a funny breed - we don't think about the world without considering its impact on our children. The impact of this place and its thought processes has been intensely positive on our children and has forced me to shut my mouth and slow down. They're being kids and are encouraged to embrace the fact that they're children and not rush to grow up or push harder or achieve more. The first week or so of school I was worried that we weren't doing homework every night or rushing off to various extracurricular activities - but no one was doing that - not that I noticed anyway. It's completely normal to hang out at school after the final bell rings and eat the rest of your lunch as your snack and play. It's not organized; there are no teams; it's just play. Amazing! The kids smile, laugh and play with different people each afternoon and parents talk and visit - it's like a giant playgroup every day. Before the opening bell each morning, we play - on the playground with all sorts of people. After lunch every day, the children play. The principal, who is a former professional musician and really cool, addressed the importance of play in his opening remarks at our back to school BBQ (note: BBQ here is a verb, not a noun) and said bluntly that play is a priority and, weather permitting, kids will be outside playing every. single. day. There are pick up soccer games, elaborate fantasy games that involve invisible ships and space cruisers, monkey bars, basketball, balance beams, etc. And I think kids here are happier. I've realized it's not enrolling my children in activities that they want to be in as much as allowing them space to create activities they enjoy. It's a total paradigm shift.
What I really don't get is that we're living in a city and the pace is slower!?!? I don't know if this is a west coast phenomenon or a Canadian phenomenon and I may never know that answer, but I like this gentle vibe. The folks here put an emphasis on children (at least in the West End where we are). The approach, as I best understand it right now, is that if we honor childhood as a part of life and allow it to be lived at an age-appropriate time/pace, when it's time to move into adulthood this part of our selves will be able to move on. They practice being family focused. I've met a mom who works part time as does her husband so they can be with their children more. They share a one bedroom apartment (all four of them) very intentionally so their focus is being a family and raising their children into sensitive, responsible adults. This kind of rocked me to the core! I have to ask myself if I'd make that choice. I still have to wrestle with that one.
What Challenges Me:
There are unexpected moments of grace. I was walking down Denman Street a little over a week ago and saw a woman, who I assume was either the owner of the store at this corner or a resident of the building above it, and she stepped up to a homeless man sleeping on the street and handed him a big bag from Burger King - obviously filled with food. It's been very new for me to be face to face on a daily basis with homelessness and poverty. I'm trying to learn how to live with it - it's hard for me to reconcile my sense of parental responsibility/protecting my children and my responsibility to love all of God's people. It's hard to teach my children how to do that with grace too - one of our kids is completely freaked out every time we pass a homeless person and the other greets with enthusiasm every person we meet - homeless or not. They kind of personify the inner tension I feel trying to figure out how to respond myself! We look out of our bedroom window at night and see folks climbing into dumpsters searching for food or a place to get away from the rain. We hear folks pushing grocery buggies obviously full of glassware they can turn in for the recycling deposit. And we're here in warmth with good food and clean water and clothes. It's a stark contrast and I'm figuring out how to walk through it - I'm starting by teaching my children that a smile is a kind gift to anyone we meet and that all people are children of God.
The whole faith thing challenges me here. Our family's lens is permanently filtered through our faith - it's who we are. But here, we're in a huge minority and I know there will come a time relatively soon when one or both of our kids as me WHY we believe in God. And I've started pondering that very question because I know it's deeper than 'we always have' but putting words to it is tricky...especially when I have to frame it so our 6 and 8 year olds can understand. And what I've come to is this:
We believe in God because we need God. We need hope. We need grace. And God gives us hope and grace and community. God gives us strength when we experience hard times. Our faith helps us know we belong to something larger than our individual selves; our faith makes us who we are.
It's not fancy or theologically eloquent but I hope it helps me define and explain our identity in a new way. And I *hope* it informs how they interact with other people and gives them enough security to engage people who believe differently with respect and dignity, without apologizing for our own beliefs.
Weather and lonely moments are challenging too - the rains have come and somehow the clouds bring a solitary feeling with them. I sure miss my family and wish I had called my parents for lunch dates more regularly when we lived closer to one another. I miss being able to hug a friend when they're in a hard place and I miss receiving those knowing glances from friends who know me well. But I've learned that lonely times come and my new approach is to let them in, but only for a visit. The quicker they come in, the quicker they're felt and ushered out. And they're ushered out by focusing on gratitude - for land lines that let me call family and friends, for walking in the rain, for the opportunity to live in a beautiful part of the world and for people who are becoming friends and confidants, and yes, even gratitude for facebook.
All in all...
We're in a great place - our reality has changed and my experience of parenthood has changed. And I'm learning again that there's always another approach, another perspective and that this 'other' might even be better than what we've known. There are hard images to digest, there are lonely times to overcome BUT our faith continues to bring us comfort, challenge and peace. I'm grateful to and for you who hold us in prayer and thought and all who we claim as friends.
What Resonates with Me:
Much of this shifting in thought processes revolves around our children because I see the positive benefits firsthand in them. I arrived here *assuming* the schools are intense, academically advanced and focused on achievement. At this point, I'd say I'm really wrong about that [and I've learned that I make a LOT of assumptions - without knowing it]. The school that we're part of feels really good - and while I'm not overly confident that we'll get back to the States as foregone valedictorians, I am very confident we'll come back with children who've been taught how to live as good people. I kind of chewed my nails as I dialed back my 'hurry up and get to work' rhetoric and my 'what do you mean you're working on subtraction and not division?' yammering. And my dialing it back was affirmed almost instantly when I saw grade 6 girls take my grade 1 girl under their wing and allow her to play with them kindly instead of shooing away the 'little girl' that was trying to get into their grown up world. At that moment I realized that I'd wanted my children to return to the States having been trained in citizenship and mutual respect because, let's face it, that'll get them farther in life than diagramming sentences.
We parents are a funny breed - we don't think about the world without considering its impact on our children. The impact of this place and its thought processes has been intensely positive on our children and has forced me to shut my mouth and slow down. They're being kids and are encouraged to embrace the fact that they're children and not rush to grow up or push harder or achieve more. The first week or so of school I was worried that we weren't doing homework every night or rushing off to various extracurricular activities - but no one was doing that - not that I noticed anyway. It's completely normal to hang out at school after the final bell rings and eat the rest of your lunch as your snack and play. It's not organized; there are no teams; it's just play. Amazing! The kids smile, laugh and play with different people each afternoon and parents talk and visit - it's like a giant playgroup every day. Before the opening bell each morning, we play - on the playground with all sorts of people. After lunch every day, the children play. The principal, who is a former professional musician and really cool, addressed the importance of play in his opening remarks at our back to school BBQ (note: BBQ here is a verb, not a noun) and said bluntly that play is a priority and, weather permitting, kids will be outside playing every. single. day. There are pick up soccer games, elaborate fantasy games that involve invisible ships and space cruisers, monkey bars, basketball, balance beams, etc. And I think kids here are happier. I've realized it's not enrolling my children in activities that they want to be in as much as allowing them space to create activities they enjoy. It's a total paradigm shift.
What I really don't get is that we're living in a city and the pace is slower!?!? I don't know if this is a west coast phenomenon or a Canadian phenomenon and I may never know that answer, but I like this gentle vibe. The folks here put an emphasis on children (at least in the West End where we are). The approach, as I best understand it right now, is that if we honor childhood as a part of life and allow it to be lived at an age-appropriate time/pace, when it's time to move into adulthood this part of our selves will be able to move on. They practice being family focused. I've met a mom who works part time as does her husband so they can be with their children more. They share a one bedroom apartment (all four of them) very intentionally so their focus is being a family and raising their children into sensitive, responsible adults. This kind of rocked me to the core! I have to ask myself if I'd make that choice. I still have to wrestle with that one.
What Challenges Me:
There are unexpected moments of grace. I was walking down Denman Street a little over a week ago and saw a woman, who I assume was either the owner of the store at this corner or a resident of the building above it, and she stepped up to a homeless man sleeping on the street and handed him a big bag from Burger King - obviously filled with food. It's been very new for me to be face to face on a daily basis with homelessness and poverty. I'm trying to learn how to live with it - it's hard for me to reconcile my sense of parental responsibility/protecting my children and my responsibility to love all of God's people. It's hard to teach my children how to do that with grace too - one of our kids is completely freaked out every time we pass a homeless person and the other greets with enthusiasm every person we meet - homeless or not. They kind of personify the inner tension I feel trying to figure out how to respond myself! We look out of our bedroom window at night and see folks climbing into dumpsters searching for food or a place to get away from the rain. We hear folks pushing grocery buggies obviously full of glassware they can turn in for the recycling deposit. And we're here in warmth with good food and clean water and clothes. It's a stark contrast and I'm figuring out how to walk through it - I'm starting by teaching my children that a smile is a kind gift to anyone we meet and that all people are children of God.
The whole faith thing challenges me here. Our family's lens is permanently filtered through our faith - it's who we are. But here, we're in a huge minority and I know there will come a time relatively soon when one or both of our kids as me WHY we believe in God. And I've started pondering that very question because I know it's deeper than 'we always have' but putting words to it is tricky...especially when I have to frame it so our 6 and 8 year olds can understand. And what I've come to is this:
We believe in God because we need God. We need hope. We need grace. And God gives us hope and grace and community. God gives us strength when we experience hard times. Our faith helps us know we belong to something larger than our individual selves; our faith makes us who we are.
It's not fancy or theologically eloquent but I hope it helps me define and explain our identity in a new way. And I *hope* it informs how they interact with other people and gives them enough security to engage people who believe differently with respect and dignity, without apologizing for our own beliefs.
Weather and lonely moments are challenging too - the rains have come and somehow the clouds bring a solitary feeling with them. I sure miss my family and wish I had called my parents for lunch dates more regularly when we lived closer to one another. I miss being able to hug a friend when they're in a hard place and I miss receiving those knowing glances from friends who know me well. But I've learned that lonely times come and my new approach is to let them in, but only for a visit. The quicker they come in, the quicker they're felt and ushered out. And they're ushered out by focusing on gratitude - for land lines that let me call family and friends, for walking in the rain, for the opportunity to live in a beautiful part of the world and for people who are becoming friends and confidants, and yes, even gratitude for facebook.
All in all...
We're in a great place - our reality has changed and my experience of parenthood has changed. And I'm learning again that there's always another approach, another perspective and that this 'other' might even be better than what we've known. There are hard images to digest, there are lonely times to overcome BUT our faith continues to bring us comfort, challenge and peace. I'm grateful to and for you who hold us in prayer and thought and all who we claim as friends.
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