Thursday 28 June 2007

Moving vs. Dying

There are a lot of similarities between dying and moving to another country. Your closest friends want to spend the last precious moments with you. You're headed to the next exciting phase of your life. And you start giving away a much stuff as possible. Unlike dying though, when someone says a beautiful eulogy, when you move, you get to hear all the nice things people have to say about you while you're still alive and to know what impact you've had in people's lives.

I hate being the center of attention. If life is a play, I'm the one building sets in the back. I like to be involved, and I'm happy to step up to the spotlight in a pinch, but it's not natural to me. But in that quiet way, I've done a lot of things and it was nice to be recognized for them. And I got better at taking the compliments as the process went on.

Special friends started saying goodbye at least a month in advance with dinners out and gifts and speeches. At first, I could only blush and say thanks. Stepping Stones was one of the hardest. The vicar's wife was so lavish with her praise. I thought she surely couldn't be talking about me. I only put together a few crafts and made photocopies. Yet it was nice to hear that I had made a contribution.

By the time we stood up at the last church service to be prayed over, I was much more composed, and pleasantly pleased to realize how many people I had come in contact with in the capacities that I served. I absolutely didn't do any of it for the recognition. I did it for God's glory. But it was nice just the same. And to hear that they'd spoken positively about how we'd impacted village and school life at the governor's meeting and a gathering at the village hall. In a way, it was good to know that we would be missed as much as we would miss them. And that their lasting impressions of those crazy Americans was a good one, not bad.

The vicar's wife told me, "I think Texas must be the friendliest, kindest place on earth, because of you." I'm glad I've represented my God, my country and my state well. And in saying goodbye, that I had the opportunity to tell people how much I cared about them and that they had impacted our lives, too. That's a good way to go. It's sort of like a living eulogy.

It made me wonder, why do we wait until the very end to tell people how much they mean to us?

Friday 15 June 2007

Leaving Home/Going Home

"This is the last time I'll have to take out the wheely bin!" Brendan said happily to me this morning.

That is definitely a good "last". But I'm getting a bit nostalgic about leaving England, and there are some "lasts" that I'm not looking forward to. I heard the Tuesday night church bell-ringing practice for the last time. I'm going to the last Friday school awards assembly this afternoon. I had breakfast with the American ladies for the last time yesterday morning. They pilfered through my pantry and left-over electronics to see what they could use. We can't ship any food, and we can't use the British electronics in America.

I am excited about going home. I can't wait to have some concentrated family-time this summer, but it will be hard to say goodbye to friends. Mostly, I don't say goodbye, just promise to keep in touch and invite them to come visit us when we get into a house, whenever that will be.

The people we've met and the friends we've made have made all the difference in living in a foreign country. At first, it was difficult to meet people, because the British have a quiet reserve about them, and they do not take the initiative. I had to be the one to step forward and say hello. But once that was over, I made some true friends, ones that I hope to stay in touch with for the rest of my life, although I'm the worst at staying in touch.

I mentioned the American ladies. Most of them have been here longer than us. Some have already moved on. Some have gotten citizenship and British passports, so they're free to live and work throughout the EU. They alone know what it's like to uproot their families and move to England so their husbands could take a job at this company. I have treasured our Thursday breakfasts and lunches, which stretched on for hours as we compared notes about where to shop, how to overcome our British moments, raising young children, supporting our husbands, and sometimes listening to each other's moans about missing home.

Another group I'll miss is the Wednesday morning bible study group. More than anyone, these ladies have supported me and helped me grow in my faith. We've cried, and laughed, and searched together. They are so dear to me. I'll miss them.

Then, there's Grange Park Church - the livliest, noisiest, on fire bunch of people I've met. I helped design crafts for a Moms and Tots group and ran the craft stall at Kidzone, which gave me a much needed creative outlet. And I taught Sunday School for the 9 and 10-year-olds. They ask wonderful, challenging questions. I briefly helped on the building committee, which was a glorious glimpse at how God pulls together all the right people at the right place and time to make things happen. I wish them luck with their new endeavor.

I also served on the school Board of Governers, which gave me a deeper understanding and appreciation for how Church of England, Voluntary-Aided schools are run. It helped to make me comfortable with the type of education Brendan received, which I think has been top-notch. But more than anything, each governor and teacher is committed to making the school a safe, happy, accepting place, unlike any other I've seen. It will be difficult to find it's equal in the states and I will always be involved in the life of Brendan's school.

Then there are the friends I've made in the village, mostly parents of Brendans close friends - Nina, Niki and Nita, who have helped me immensely in so many ways. They are so lovely.

Bill has just arrived home from his last day of work, so I'll sign off. Pray for us and wish us luck tha the move goes smoothly and we don't lose anything this time.

Monday 11 June 2007

One Step Closer to Publishing

Way back at Christmas, I submitted a manuscript called, A Pumpkin Named Jack, to ABC Picture Book Competition (www.bookcompetition.org). When I returned from holiday, I had an email message that said that I was one of the finalists! There were 125 entries from around the country, and they picked 12 finalists.

The next phase of the competition is online voting by any and all people I know. An illustrator (which I hope they’ll let me do) will produce a piece of art to compliment the story, and then for two weeks in September, the voting happens. The winner gets a publishing contract and 1000 books to sell at school visits, etc… It's a small competition yet, as it's only in it's third year, which means I have a much better chance of getting published than just sending the manuscript to publishing companies hoping they'll take a look at it.

I shared this story with Brendan’s schoolmates during Book Week last fall. I would love for them to see it in print.

So, stay tuned. I’ll be asking you to ask all of your family, friends and acquaintances and anyone I meet on the street to vote online soon.