Six Months Stateside

 I have notes on my iPhone, notes upon notes of random thoughts that took the form of a text message to myself while out on a walk.  Or two sentences compiled from a conversation I had with a friend.  An observation made while Jared worked away.  Just a room across from me.  You see fleeting ideas are not new to me.  Once, just before turning out our reading lights, I remembered the name of a Dutch artist I had been searching the crevices of my brain for.  Seriously.  Like running through all the artists I had seen in Vienna, alphabetically.  And to no avail.  Then, seconds before I drifted to dreamland it came to me.  Bruegel.  That was the artist.  I shouted it and gave Jared a scare.  Then as he realized my reference, he began laughing.  I did too.  Uncontrollably so.  Such is life with me.  

We've reached our six month mark stateside.  Six months of global pandemic.  Six months here.  In America.  Today as the rain falls and crashes against the window of my fifth floor apartment I realize how tired I am.  How ready I am for the rain to wash it all away.  The grief.  The loneliness.  The fear.  All of it exists and surfaces every time I began writing a recap post.  As if the emotions are in a cauldron, bubbling, like a rolling boil.   Then the heat is turned up and, and, and.  Here comes the overflow.  Fair warning.  I have all the thoughts and all the feelings right now.  

While Jared and I have marked our six months here, Thing 4 left the country just before he reached that milestone.  He is, in fact, returning to Vienna.  He is our youngest child and has been the only child consistently in our home for the last two years.  His presence is missed, as in my heart physically hurts.  So to put off feeling that pain, as soon as we bid farewell at the airport, Jared and I drove to Memphis and picked up a shopping list full of goodies from IKEA.  We then returned home and rearranged his room, changed the bedding, added a bookshelf and removed all evidence of him from the space.  Not all, but most.  The smell is gone.  His footie scarves and flags are gone.  The maps and skateboard wheels. The process was cathartic.  Until it wasn't.  Now I just plain miss him.   Yet, I am keenly aware that this move was the next right thing for him.  Such a brave and bold move to pack up and start a life in a foreign country.  A move that I hope proves to be the adventure he was hoping for.  Thank goodness for technology.  And thank goodness for friends and community that have welcomed his return with home cooked meals, a safe space to land, people excited to spend time with him and more messages than I can count reminding me of how many people he has in that country that love him.  That is good for this Mama's heart.  

I have returned to university.  The entire process has been strange.  I am not too sure what to think about someone/something controlling my schedule and routine.  We're starting week four of the semester and thus far the grades have been positive, the writing different than what I'm accustomed to and the reading overwhelming.  Not to mention the videos and supplemental information that the professors have added to each module, on a weekly basis.  I suppose that some of this replaces lectures since I am completely online.  My hope is that by midterms I'll have found my rhythm.  I recently purchased a planner because yes, I still need to write with a pen and plan and set goals with a pencil and paper.  

Jared is still working from home and we are still trying to learn how to navigate sharing our space.  His work day involves WebX and phone calls and talking.  My day requires quiet.  Or, more accurately, I need quiet.  Otherwise my focus shifts and my attention drifts and it's all for not.  I know.  I've tried headphones and moving rooms.  I cant even begin to tell you how much this makes me miss my corner booth at Paremi, in Wien.  But alas, we are not there.  We are here.  And here is where we need to sort this out.  So I am on the hunt for a small writing desk for the guest bedroom, formerly known as Will's room.  I'll add a cozy chair, possibly a candle and an inspiring framed quote and Jared and I can take turns.  That just might work.  

We've continued with our weekly family dinners.  Pop and Nan came for a visit before Thing 4 left for Wien and life marches on, as they say.  Our pre-meal rituals have changed a bit.  Now we take turns choosing and reading a poem from our limited collection, and then typically we practice gratitude by sharing what we're thankful for at the moment.  This has been grounding and a bit of an adjustment for us all.  There has been some awkwardness following the conclusion of the reading, like do we clap?  Or snap our fingers?  Or nod and put our thinking face on?  Not sure.  Really, there is no right or wrong here, we all just keep showing up.  Candles have been burned and the table has remained a sacred space in our home.  For that I am grateful.  Sometimes we'll all listen to the same podcast, or Jared and I will send out questions to ponder and discuss, other times we'll tackle current events, politics, or any and all taboo subjects.  Or at least we're trying to.  And we'll continue to make space and allow for all the in-between.  

The holidays are rapidly approaching.   So quickly that I am asking myself, where has 2020 gone?  That thought is laid to rest as I began recalling all that 2020 has held thus far.  With my reentry into the world of academia I was reminded of how September feels more like the start to a new year than January sometimes.  Similar to a reset and refresh button.  That has been needed and welcomed with open arms.  When the opportunity to reevaluate presents itself I want to listen and heed that suggestion.  So I have.  Asking questions of myself.  What am I saying yes to?  No to?  Where am I spending my time?  I'll tell you where I'm not spending my time, reading what I want to read.  All non fiction reading seems to have been suspended due to required reading.  On occasion I'll manage to read my fiction before bed, but even that has become rare.  I don't feel like I have the brain space for more words.  Weird.  At least for me.  Back to holidays, I've started feeling the house with fall scented candles, natural accents, such as drift wood, stones and feathers found.  Those bits of nature signal the change in season for me.  Soon there will be gourds and pumpkins a plenty!  Although not before I bid a proper adieu to summer.  

I do believe that I mentioned our dog search in a previous post.  That continues.  No final thoughts or findings just yet.  Our daughters continue to send me the cutest, yet most manipulative, photos of pups and dogs from the local shelters.  I hadn't felt the need to submit an application until their most recent ploy.  Within minutes of each other Things 2 and 3 sent me a link to the same dog.  He's at the humane society and as soon as I saw his sweet face I knew.  Application submitted and an appointment made to meet him.  That isn't until the end of the month so who knows what the update will be in my next recap post.  

Those notes I mentioned at the beginning of the post are still on my phone, waiting for me to develop them into completion.  And I might.  Or I might not.  One worth considering is a detailed comparison of Apple's credo and parenting.   Over the past six months I have become familiar in a new way with the Credo.  Jared and I have had numerous conversations about it.  I've written extensive notes.  

I'd be remiss not to highlight the work of protestors, educators and grass root organizations during this time and the influence they've had on me.  More than any other time in my life I am acquainting myself with our neighborhood.  Educating myself on the city council and relevant issues.  Communicating with my elected officials and engaging in dialogue.  This has been eye opening and challenging.  And necessary.  I have found this to be more uncomfortable than not and I do believe that is the only way to continue in the spirit of change: uncomfortableness.  As encouragement, mostly for me, carry on.  I want to keep doing the next right thing, even if that's a little, unremarkable, unnoticed act of protest.  My spirit says YES! 

As I am writing this post, anytime I glance up, away from the screen, my plant, Fred is what I see.  He is a Dracaena and is thriving in our home.  For the first time ever our space is filled with living plants.  Everywhere.   We have succulents and house plants, and even an air plant.  Now that one is low maintenance.  The other plants, not so much.  I talk to them.  I mist them weekly.  Water when needed and check their soil often.  It is a labor of love and one I am appreciative of.  

Suffice to say, our six months has been full.  Full of new and old.  Change and constant.  Different and better.  Different and not better.  Just different.  I am looking forward, full of hope and skewed optimism that the silver linings will continue to reveal themselves in all things.