After separating, sorting, organizing, packing, traveling thousands of miles, staying with parents for two weeks, living out of suitcases, we're almost home! Our travel trailer was finally finished yesterday. It has new tires and new carpet and all the systems work, most importantly, the air conditioning. We loaded what we've bought into it yesterday and are waiting for the air freight to arrive today to finish the work. Then Bill can finally sit back and breath a sigh of relief in his own space, for a few days, before we head to the coast.
It's all coming back to me - the two years of living and traveling in it. There were many things I enjoyed about that carefree lifestyle, but a few I didn't. It took forever to manuever around the bed to make it, hitting my head on the fan shelf and knocking my shins into the wooden base. I have to relearn how to work efficiently in that small space. I'm afraid we have way too many clothes coming, and I have to remember where I tucked all the food. Thankfully, Brendan doesn't have as many toys, but his clothes and shoes are much bigger now, and may not fit into the space it used to.
BTW - when we were backing the trailer into it's space, a park hostess drove up in a golf cart to welcome us. She said they have Sunday School every week and they're holding vacation bible school mid-July. I was a little preoccupied making sure Bill didn't back into a tree to ask, but it sounds like there might be a lot of children in the park. That would be nice for Brendan. His basketball and football should arrive today, so he can get in some practice before school starts. I always thought he was a natural at sports, but my brothers confirmed it after batting practice with Shawn and b-ball practice with Nate. He's got a good aim, and as Shawn said, "a learning spirit, willing to take instruction to improve." That could be from moving to a different country and having to relearn everthing he thought he knew and not taking anything for granted. What a great quality to have.
Gotta go. I think the movers are here!
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Friday, 6 July 2007
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?
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?
Monday, 5 March 2007
Details
Is it the devil or God that's in the details? I've heard it both ways. Either way, I'm not good with them. My close-is-good-enough outlook on life has a way of catching up with me every couple of decades, give or take a few years. I know that this is one of my shortcomings. I try to work at being organized and detail-oriented, so nothing falls through the cracks. However, I've slacked off since I stopped working. I messed up, and this time, it affected my son.
In England, the schools are on a two-tier system. There is primary and secondary school, not elementary, middle, and high school, like in the states. Getting into the right secondary school is a big deal. It can effect the rest of your life - where you get accepted to university and what career you're able to pursue. My task this term was to get Brendan into the "right" school - Northampton School for Boys. I went to the parents evenings. I agree it is the best, and I wanted him to have the chance to attend. Their entrance requirements are strict. They are always oversubscribed, which means more boys apply than can be accepted. And I missed one important detail.
In the application packet was a postcard which requested a place in the aptitude exams for technology and music. It had to be in earlier than the application. But I was ahead of schedule on the application, so I thought I'd hand-carry them to the office and turn them in together. I was a week early on the application, but two days late on the exam request. So Brendan was not able to sit the exams, and he was not accepted to the school. On the contrary, he got into our third choice school, which is really not acceptable at all. I'm certain this is the detail that kept him from being accepted. I know of four other boys who applied, all equally bright and talented, and the only difference I can see, is that Brendan didn't take the exams.
It's my fault. I screwed up! It's just like the Baumberger Endowment all over again! When I was applying for colleges, I had the opportunity to receive a large sum of grant money, and I missed a detail in that process, and didn't get any of it.
When will I learn this life lesson? I hope Brendan can see that parents are not perfect and learn from my mistake. Forever more, this will be known as the NSB debacle. Any time I see him sliding, hopefully, all I'll have to say is, "Remember NSB." He's forgiven me, but warned me not to mess up again!
I thought I could shoulder the blame. Besides, I honestly do not want to be here in September. That has always been my drop-dead cut-off date for moving back to the States. So it's really inconsequential, except that it hurts that they didn't want our son. And Bill does blame me. He said he now knows that I cannot be trusted to do anything big on my own. ouch. He's right though. I wouldn't trust myself, right now. And as a matter of pride, he wants me to appeal the decision. He wants to be able to turn them down, not the other way around.
I lost a lot of sleep that first night. I was torn as to whether to pursue this any further. I half think I subconsciously sabotaged this from the beginning so that we wouldn't have the option to stay. But I feel sure that if God had wanted it to happen, he could have intervened. And he didn't. He closed that door for us, for good.
So, after the weekend of bouncing back and forth (remember human yo-yo), I'm finally comfortable with the fact that yes, indeed, we are moving home. And I'm relieved. Of course, Bill has been out of town, so we haven't had a chance to talk it through. You get to read this before we can work it out. I really don't want to hear any offers about staying any longer. I'm starting to make plans, get ORGANIZED, and pull together pricing to move. Pray for us.
In England, the schools are on a two-tier system. There is primary and secondary school, not elementary, middle, and high school, like in the states. Getting into the right secondary school is a big deal. It can effect the rest of your life - where you get accepted to university and what career you're able to pursue. My task this term was to get Brendan into the "right" school - Northampton School for Boys. I went to the parents evenings. I agree it is the best, and I wanted him to have the chance to attend. Their entrance requirements are strict. They are always oversubscribed, which means more boys apply than can be accepted. And I missed one important detail.
In the application packet was a postcard which requested a place in the aptitude exams for technology and music. It had to be in earlier than the application. But I was ahead of schedule on the application, so I thought I'd hand-carry them to the office and turn them in together. I was a week early on the application, but two days late on the exam request. So Brendan was not able to sit the exams, and he was not accepted to the school. On the contrary, he got into our third choice school, which is really not acceptable at all. I'm certain this is the detail that kept him from being accepted. I know of four other boys who applied, all equally bright and talented, and the only difference I can see, is that Brendan didn't take the exams.
It's my fault. I screwed up! It's just like the Baumberger Endowment all over again! When I was applying for colleges, I had the opportunity to receive a large sum of grant money, and I missed a detail in that process, and didn't get any of it.
When will I learn this life lesson? I hope Brendan can see that parents are not perfect and learn from my mistake. Forever more, this will be known as the NSB debacle. Any time I see him sliding, hopefully, all I'll have to say is, "Remember NSB." He's forgiven me, but warned me not to mess up again!
I thought I could shoulder the blame. Besides, I honestly do not want to be here in September. That has always been my drop-dead cut-off date for moving back to the States. So it's really inconsequential, except that it hurts that they didn't want our son. And Bill does blame me. He said he now knows that I cannot be trusted to do anything big on my own. ouch. He's right though. I wouldn't trust myself, right now. And as a matter of pride, he wants me to appeal the decision. He wants to be able to turn them down, not the other way around.
I lost a lot of sleep that first night. I was torn as to whether to pursue this any further. I half think I subconsciously sabotaged this from the beginning so that we wouldn't have the option to stay. But I feel sure that if God had wanted it to happen, he could have intervened. And he didn't. He closed that door for us, for good.
So, after the weekend of bouncing back and forth (remember human yo-yo), I'm finally comfortable with the fact that yes, indeed, we are moving home. And I'm relieved. Of course, Bill has been out of town, so we haven't had a chance to talk it through. You get to read this before we can work it out. I really don't want to hear any offers about staying any longer. I'm starting to make plans, get ORGANIZED, and pull together pricing to move. Pray for us.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)