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!
Thursday, November 28, 2013
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.
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