To Go or Stay

Deciding to return home from Turkey was difficult. We found ourselves in a tight spot.

The land of lojman was so full for our son. He had the life: ten friends at his whim 24 hours a day. School with those friends and play and play and play with those friends. He went slip and sliding and played soccer with them. He met them at the park and went to picnics with them. He took vacations with them and went grocery shopping with them.

He also had a wonderful school there where he was taught in Turkish and English and went to school with all of his friends all day long. He learned through play and was truly loved, as each child was in this tight knit community.

All the things that made us feel we were in the film Ground Hog's Day, those things were what made lojmanlar just perfect for a 3 yr old boy. He felt safe and loved and had all the socializing he needed. It was hard to take him away from that.

Now he is experiencing new and different things each day and being exposed to things outside of my control and I love it. I love the excitement it brings and the way it helps him grow and develop, but I often wonder what one more year in Istanbul, in lojmanlar, would have brought for him. I wonder whether he would have continued to love it and whether he would have been able to develop more socially and academically had he stayed in the sweet space of his life with his friends. That time was so special for him.

He remembers, sometimes verbally, the kids he used to know and the things he used to do there. He remembers the laughter and playing and the security of being on a campus and "owning" the area he lived in and really knowing every nook and cranny.

But I love the person he is learning to be in this space we have brought him to where he can really grow. I think if we had stayed it would have been harder for him to leave after 3 years and understand what was happening. I think he knows that this is the place for him, and I hope it is the best choice for all of us.

It is hard to know what is best at any given time, but when we were deciding whether or not we should return I said, NJ is the place we need to be. I have yet to discover why that is, but I am glad I don't have to figure it out if I just know that it is.

I think everyone grows in different places. The labels attached to our trunks said: need snow, a touch of direct sunlight, old friends, deep roots, and variety.

...so I think this is where we grow best.

I have a dream...

we think we are so funny, but isn't that all that matters?

67 has never looked so good

The Miss America pageant is making me question my dreams. Fifty-three well versed, well groomed and stylized women keep saying that it was their dream, their one goal in life to become Miss America. Although I am having trouble finding virtue in that. It must be virtuous though - they all look so sweet.

My dad celebrated his 67th birthday yesterday. I like to think he has accomplished many of his goals. I never asked him what they were, but, being his self-centered off-spring, I like to think our production was one of his ultimate goals. Last night, 4 of his children sat around his table and with complete ease filled 4 hours of time with words and laughter. I think this is one of my goals. Can I get my kids to really love having face time with each other?

This is what we do.

I am not good at learning lessons, but I think that I have learned that we should hope our dreams change. That the ultimate dream should never actually happen because if it does, then what? If we aren't always learning something, then what are we doing?

Watching the news on Haiti the other day I was almost in tears.

I wasn't in tears when people were pulled from the rubble (that produced gasps of astonishment and lots of denial - I try to imagine that catastrophes like that are impossible, and I try my best to disconnect and continue on with my life here), but I cried when an elderly volunteer doctor said:

"Being here is a life changing experience...a life changing experience...even if I don't have a lot left." I sensed the absolute truth in that statement when he said it. Why shouldn't we have life changing experiences at any moment in our lives?

(I know - too many questions in one post and the connections are really loose...I am getting there).

Dreams are like creative muses. They are not things we create or control like we might think. We have to stay open to them in order to really capture their essence, but not being ready for them is okay. In time, another will present itself and we will surely be ready. Watching author Lizzie Gilbert give this lecture really clarified that feeling I had when the doctor spoke and the feeling I had during the four hour chat last night.

So Miss Americas, if this dream skips over you, hold on to those beautifully styled dresses and chicken cutlet inserts and butt glue because there will be other dreams coming your way and you will need that stuff.

What a Day Brings

For 3 mths I have been wondering what my life will look like starting September 2011. The teaching profession helps me define myself from September to June, but what next? After June, then what?

I was determined to use my imagination every day to see what sort of life I could concoct for my family. I kept pushing my mind to come up with something good. A good Canadian friend once said to me in regards to my son, "Without imagination, what else do we have?"

My imagination came up with some life options, none of which seemed viable.

Possible jobs in other countries, possible jobs in other states, living and working in different states, having a house in one country and living and working in another. Leaving a good pension and retirement (well, for now) for something "better."

In this state (of being), it is hard to care about anything. It is unhealthy. Bonds become looser, reputation becomes less important, relationships wane.

For a while I felt like the state of the union. What was next? The only thing I knew I should do was to work hard and have faith.

It became my mantra. Something that made no tangible sense, but I had to exercise. The sacrifice of paying rent equivalent to a mortgage was like a good spinning class. The payout was tremendous.

After all the spinning, September looks better than I ever could have imagined, but luckily the class is over for now.

I made a phone call to my husband on a Tuesday afternoon and was given a report: our friends offered to sell us a house in the town I want to live in at a price that we can afford.

Boy was I worried about all that faith practice not making a difference. How wrong I was.

I resolve to never doubt again.