To get the full value of a joy, you must have
somebody to divide it with.
- Mark Twain
My husband and I are sharing
the excitement and joy of a new adventure together!
With Valentine's Day just
around the corner, this is not your typical tale of romance, but my
"Valentine" and I have recently been invited to become members
of the Peace Corps. What could be more romantic? 8-)
We are as euphoric
as anyone newly in love has been. Depsite the obvious challenges and difficulties this
adventure will present, we are engaged and excited about the dynamic change in
our lives.
We are moving
forward with joy.
Last year as February
reared it’s head, my heart felt as though it was trapped in a vice as I
reflected back on the days surrounding Caleb’s birth (22 Feb 1976) and his
death (25 Feb 2002).
I feel as though
the ice that has covered my soul and spirit has finally melted and the warmth
of life and love has resurrected me. I
find myself singing and smiling and even dancing – and giving thanks.
Mark Twain was
very wise - It is a joy and a privilege to share this experience with a loved
one. For that I am most grateful.
After the Walk – Ed the Duck goes to
Mark wants to take
Ed the Duck with us on our Peace Corps tour to
We can take only
100 pounds of baggage and he wants to take a rubber ducky.
I smile and
agree. It pleases me that he suggested
it.
Ed will, of
course, have no baggage allowance since we are “smuggling” him into the country
with no passport. He will travel light –
Mark came walking in with a tube of metal polish and indicated that this is the
sum total of Ed’s luggage requirements, but Ed himself, is rather heavy. This little guy wears a suit of handmade
chain mail.
Ed, the funny
yellow rubber duck in his chain mail suit has traveled extensively. Many years ago, when Ed became our son’s
constant companion, he usually rode quite comfortably in the pocket of Caleb’s
chain-mail lined field jacket as the two made their way around
Caleb would pull
Ed from his pocket at times and I would observe that someone wearing lipstick
had planted kisses on the bright yellow duck.
Apparently his charms were not lost on the high school girls that Ed had
the opportunity to meet back then.
In later years, Ed
became a fixture on the dashboard of Caleb’s car. Wherever the black Jeep went, Ed was
there. There were 4-wheeling adventures
and nights on the town. There were
several cross country jaunts in the Jeep, despite the fact it is a ragtop, with
no radio or doors. Once
Caleb and Ed got caught in the Jeep during a snowstorm in the mountains of
Anyone
who knew Caleb, certainly met Ed.
Ed was not along
on Caleb’s last trip. He was safe at
home on the dashboard of the Jeep when the motorcycle accident happened.
We drove our son’s
Jeep up the mountain to the memorial services for him. Ed was, as ever, perched on the
dashboard. He was (and still is) a
reminder of happier times.
Ed is also, for
us, a reminder to live a full rich life.
He is a reminder to laugh and take a few risks.
I think about how
hard it would be o be a duck wearing armor.
A duck is meant to fly and a duck should be able to swim. In donning armor, Ed had to give up those
pleasures. For me, Ed the Duck
exemplifies what it means to put service before self. Certainly if he had his choice, he would love
to swim and paddle on a pond, to fly over the countryside and view the world
from far above, to live the life of freedom a duck is meant to live.
Somehow this duck
has become a symbol to me. He not only brings
back joyful memories of the wonderful son I lost, but he also reminds me of the
abundance that is mine and that I can (and should) share my blessings with joy.
So as February
rolls around again, we are reminded that this is the month our son Caleb was
born (
No Starbucks in
Sigh, the teasing has begun! My friend wrote me a note and
mentioned Starbucks...No Starbucks in
I am practicing ordering coffee. This is part of my survival
training! Here is what the phrase looks like in transliterated Ukrainian
(left out the accents):
Daite bud laska, kavu. Duzhe dyakuyu!
Say that three times fast! (Until I get the pronunciation down, I
will gesture sipping from a cup as I blurt out the above phrase!)
I am writing to friends and family and asking them to send snapshots
of family, home, neighborhood, work, church, grocery store, movie rental
place and other typical hang outs (Starbucks with a double shot
latte)! I will enjoy them, but my real intent is to share them with
Ukrainians so they get a better picture of what life is like here in the
Miss Zoë is tugging at my shirt sleeves - time to go outside for the
morning constitutional...brrrr, it is rather cold
today (32 degrees) but at least the ice storm that visited us has blown over
... there is only a little slush on the ground. I NEED to find and buy
some waterproof footwear so I can make it through the Spring
season slogging back and forth through mud, melting snow and spring rain
until May when things dry out till October...by then I hope to acquire some
decent, warm boots for winter walking in professional wear. (When I
walked a mile to the T in
Only three weeks to go! Despite my humor, I am eager to get there
and engage in life as a Ukrainian...no sense in traveling abroad if all
you think about is the stuff you leave behind!
Do pobachennya (good
bye) for now…
Cold feet & size 9 ˝ shoes…
The morning walk was like wandering through a fairy land. We were surprised to see another dog-walking
couple. It is unusual to meet people
walking in this neighborhood, even on days when the weather is balmy and
inviting.
We made a point of walking only in open areas, devoid of trees. Last year, the ice storm we had did some
really significant damage to cars. Large
trees would crash to the ground and fall on unsuspecting people and cars. Our yard is littered with smaller branches
and debris, but we seem to have escaped serious consequences.
Walking in the slush reminds me I must get some kind of footwear. A challenge anyway, because size 9 ˝ footwear
is always hard to find. This is not
because they are so large, but most manufacturers stop making half sizes at
size 9 so often I must choose between a 9 or a 10. Neither shoe is comfortable. The coveted size
9 ˝ shoes disappear from the shelves almost immediately.
It will be worse in
So, in
We will head to Tractor Supply and look for galoshes or rubbers to get
us through the first few weeks in
·
The moving sale, ice storms & Ukrainian food….
Pain is as frost is to some plants: it strengthens them. Pain is very important in the transformation of a person.
- Pir Vilayat Inayat Khan
Alchemical Wisdom
Here in the
We got up at
It is now almost 9 AM and we have had sold a few large pieces, but the
living room and front bedroom are full of stuff, Prospects for more
shoppers are slim. Carolinians are not accustomed to snow and ice.
Outside, ice pellets are falling and not many cars are even out on the
street. This kind of weather usually means power failure and falling
branches. We had a bad ice storm last year and many people sustained
damages so this time they are taking the warnings seriously. The grocery
store shelves were empty last night and the parking lots were full as people
stocked up on bread, milk, movies, etc.
Mark volunteered to walk with Miss Zoë this morning. The weather
doesn't phase her. If anything, she delights in
foul weather. No booties or coats for her - she wears her fur 24/7 and it
is designed for snow and cold.
12:30 – We have a fire going in the living room fireplace and continue
to hang out in that room as brave souls (or foolish ones) brave the weather and
shop the bargains at the Pulver moving sale.
I perch on a footstool in the midst of the sale items and watch a movie
between customers. The few people who
come, stay and visit. That is the nature
of yard-salers I think, but the weather makes staying
even more attractive.
The CD provided by our Peace Corps Country Director includes video and
audio clips of a variety of things including scenery and popular music. Hip hop in Ukrainian is fun to listen
to! (I may share this with the students
at
I like to think about the castles and Cossacks of the early days in
The biggest fear that is emerging for us (besides learning the language
and basic adjustment challenges) is the matter of food and alcohol.
Ukrainians apparently love to be gracious and generous hosts so we know
as guests we will be inundated with food.
The foods available are generally high in carbohydrates ad sugar (pork,
potatoes, cabbage, etc). People love to
put a dollop of sour cream on things and of course the milk is thick and rich
and cheese is very popular. Vodka is a
drink of celebration and it is difficult to decline.
We also know we will not be as inspired to walk twice-daily without
sweet Zoë Mae to motivate us. Of course
the Ukrainian weather will conspire to make us couch potatoes too. The many pounds Mark and I have shed may
creep back. He will monitor his diabetes
and I hope to keep my cholesterol under control. Neither of us likes to take medications so we
are both motivated to monitor our choices and to exercise.
Staging package arrived...
Cherish all your
happy moments: They make a fine cushion for old age.
-
Booth Tarkington
Our official staging packages arrived in yesterday’s mail. We will be arriving at staging in
The date of our staging weekend also represents another milestone
in our lives, and not a happy one. It
marks the third year anniversary of the accident that took our 26 year old
son’s life. It may sound odd, but this
coincidence pleases me. We are moving on
to a new, wonderful adventure and somehow I feel as though we are honoring the
memory of our son as we take this big step.
I am not certain we would ever have committed to the Peace Corps
had we not been through the growth that comes along with the pain in dealing
with death and dying. This will
certainly be an emotional time for us both, but it also makes us stronger as we
look past the pain and see the beauty.
We were originally offered a nomination for this assignment, way
back when we interviewed. When I heard
the dates, I recoiled and found myself asking for a different nomination.
Let me recap our experience with placement. When we applied last year (
After declining the assignment departing on the anniversary of our
son’s death we were offered nomination to what my friend Jim calls the
“U-pick-a-stan-lands” in
Following the holiday season I dropped an e-mail to my placement
representative and indicated we were eager to receive an invitation. Her reply indicated they had an invitation in
the mail so on 12 January we were invited to
I know I have written about the logistics already, but I do not
think I wrote about my feelings. When
the 25 February assignment was initially offered back in May, I was not able to
consider it, but now, nine months later, I am delighted to take the chill off
that date by making it a special way to honor our son as we move forward with
our lives.
So in less than a month we will be in
By 1 March we will be arriving in
Life is good.
Life is an adventure.
And now, there is work to be done!
·
The
Invitation to Serve Arrives…
Last
Wednesday seems long ago. I received an
e-mail from our Placement Officer, Sarah Erdman. She indicated that an assignment was pending
for an Eastern European location departing in late February. Another e-mail arrived later in the day
advising us that a FEDEX was enroute to us – our
assignment.
Waiting
is so difficult. We had to leave town
Friday morning and unfortunately the package did not arrive before we left so
we faced a few extra days of anticipation.
When we arrived home Sunday evening we discovered we had missed the
delivery by only a matter of minutes. We
pulled out of the driveway at exactly
We
spent a restless night waiting. Monday
morning I left the front door open and tried to find activities that allowed me
to remain close to the door. I found
myself drifting out onto the porch with my coffee in hand. I stood looking up and down the street like a
forlorn puppy waiting for my master to arrive home.
Somewhere
around
I
wanted to tear open the package, but I had promised Mark I would e-mail him at
work so he could call me. Then I would tear
open the package and in this way we could share in the discovery together. More waiting.
Zoë sniffed the package as if she knew how important the contents were.
In
a matter of minutes Mark called and I proceeded to rip open the package.
There
in black and white was our assignment information:
Like
the woman who receives a marriage proposal in all the old movies, I had the
urge to say, “Oh my, this is so sudden!”
What did come out was, “How exciting!”
I
have never liked long engagements. The
courtship period is essential, but the engagement period should be one of
enthusiasm and excitement. There should be passion. In a long engagement there are tedious
checklists and lots of “should do” and “must do” items. In a short engagement, priorities are
established by the heart and not the head – the essential self speaks, the essential self, rather than the social
self. I agree with the Little Prince,
“What is essential is invisible to the eye.”
Today
we will call and accept the assignment and in the anticipation of saying yes, I
feel a strength and joy that I am eager to share!
With
approximately 44 days to go, there is much to be done. There is no time to belabor decisions or
second guess things. We can simply move
forward.
Walking
Miss Zoë this morning it occurred to me that for those of us privileged enough
to live here in
The
opportunity to live in another country is an education worth pursuing. Will our values and beliefs sustain us when
we are faced with others who have different beliefs? I think much of the world thinks that here in
the
As
I watched my Brownie troop work on their badges last night I was reminded that
when I was their age (2nd grade) President Kennedy was in
office. It was during the first week of
March that he gave his speech introducing the fledgling Peace Corps. Now many years later, I find myself becoming
a member of that proud organization. We
depart for our assignment at the start of the annual Peace Corps Week which
commemorates the birth of this organization.
This seems an auspicious start, certainly one I could not have
orchestrated myself, but worth noting.
Back into a Routine…
To bring the sublime into the
mundane is
the
greatest challenge there is.
- Pir
Vilayat Inayat Khan
Alchemical Wisdom
I
have carved out a clean, or at least orderly, place to spend my morning
hours. While Miranda was in residence,
the bright, sunny dining room at the back of the house was her bedroom.
I
missed spending my morning hours in that space.
It is the bright yellow walls, and the comfort of sunshine that I
missed. The golden hue of the oak furnishings and the hardwood floors reflect
the light in a way that warms me and revives memories of my childhood in the
big yellow house on
The
rest of the house is cave-like. The
rooms receive little sunshine, a blessing in the dog days of summer, but
uninviting during the grey days of winter.
I
am glad to have this space to call my own.
I often start my mornings here, tapping away on my laptop. My morning journal notes spill out.
My
routine begins with a morning walk with Miss Zoë. When I return, I find a cup of coffee and
take my chair at the table under the dining room window. I write quickly, with few pauses. The words flow from my fingers. Often I am surprised by the words that appear
on the screen. I do not try to induce a
discipline to this writing, I simply write.
I do not edit.
I
have looked forward to having time to myself. The grandchildren filled our
lives for five months and crowded out my quiet times. During the trip to
Somehow
though, I feel uninspired these past two days.
I feel a bit blue. Rather than
anticipating the delights ahead, I feel churlish and moody. I could weep.
This is so out of character. A
look at the calendar reminds me that in 6 weeks it will be Caleb’s birthday and
shortly afterwards, the anniversary of his death. That realization exacerbates this funk I am
in.
I
am moody, yes. I am irritated that my
daughter seldom e-mails or calls; I am mindful that other friends and family
seldom respond to my efforts to communicate…I do not take it personally. People are busy and while they enjoy my
notes, etc, they do not find time to respond.
Today, I am fighting an attitude – I find myself wondering what it would
be like to simply stop writing to anyone. (A variation on the children’s game
of “Boy will they miss me when I am gone!”)
My
uncharacteristic moodiness doesn’t stop there, but I will refrain (try to) from
itemizing my petty concerns.
The
beginning of the year is a time to consider direction and to challenge
routine. What do I want out of life this
year? What path shall I follow? The list is long – the trick is to discover
which items are really meaningful enough to commit to.
(I
am tempted to go into a rant regarding New Years Resolutions…people no longer
make resolutions. I think it is
sad. They always say, “I just break
them, so why make them.” As if that
matters at all. Sigh.)
There
are things I really want to incorporate into my life:
There
are things I want to do someday:
·
Downsize
possessions
·
Walk
the Pilgrim route to Santiago de Compostella (In 2007
after PC?)
·
Attend
the Rose Bowl Parade (2007?)
·
Relocate
to dry, sunny place with higher altitude & big skies
A New Year Begins…
I
begin again. A new year. A time to look forward.
But
first some details about the Christmas trip to
We
swaddle the grandchildren into cozy nests as we load the van in the deepest
hour of darkness, between
They
will be glad to be home, though their home will be new to them since their
parents have moved all their household goods from the rolling hills near
I
slept my way into
Many
people speak of traveling with children as quite a chore, but we found them to
be capable travelers.
Cameron
(11) engages himself with reading and seldom spoke for the first two and a half
days on the road. Nose buried in a thick
novel, he was quiet and content.
Miranda
(just turned 7) passed the time coloring, cutting and pasting elaborate art
projects which she conjured up on her own.
She also maintained a journal. It
was amusing to see her moving her #2 lead pencil across the pages of the spiral
bound notebook as she detailed her thoughts and experiences in her first-grade
penmanship. Below the narrative, she drew
crayoned pictures to remind her of events or views. In the early morning hours, I caught her
using her flashlight to see the paper as she scrawled her urgent notes.
The
Interstate highway was certainly a boon to
Driving
through this flat, lonely stretch it was difficult to even find a place to stop
for breakfast; particularly on a Sunday morning.
Where
are the small, local cafes?
These
days, the truck stops and small diners are gone because people just speed on to
the next larger city. The tiny
communities along the highway have let their businesses die. The “Texas Stop Sign” (as the Dairy Queen is
called in this state) is the only food stop to be seen in most towns and even
they are closed on Sunday morning. (I am
reminded of Larry McMurty books about west
When
we near
We
stop for gas in President G. W. Bush’s hometown. Being born in such a place would certainly
influence how you see the world. A sign
indicates that the community is considered a garden-spot and an oasis. If one never left west
A
coyote races across the highway in front of us.
We look for the roadrunner, but do not see him.
This
is the third day. After about 1,600
miles of travel and 3 days of 24/7 togetherness, the children begin to interact
a bit. We have been lucky! They begin to play the traditional games of
“He’s Touching Me - She’s Looking at Me” and I demonstrate some of my military
training as I bark like a drill sergeant a few times. (Even Mark sits up straighter!)
We
find the Howard’s apartment complex with no difficulty. We do not, however, have the correct building
address. No problem right? Mark goes to the leasing office and explains
the situation.
A
surly woman agent says “No, we can’t help you.
It is a security issue.”
Moriah
and Chip should arrive home soon, so if all else fails we will wander through
the complex and find their car. This is
not too satisfactory since the complex is really large, so we decide to see if
the folks in the leasing office will let us use the phone to leave a message
for Chip and/or Moriah letting them know we are in the leasing office waiting
with the two kids.
The
man who waits on us this time empathizes and lets us use the phone. After a few
moments conversation, he looks over his shoulder to ss
if “that woman” is around, and then says, “You didn’t hear it from me, but they
live in building # XXX.”
Perhaps
he was not eager to have two wired-up children and their tired, smelly
grandparents lingering in the lobby or perhaps he really is just a nice
guy. I suspect the latter!
We
walk to the appropriate building and arrive just as the senior Howards pull up in their Jeep.
A
happy reunion ensues.
The
next few days are filled with visiting friends and family. We shop and enjoy dining out. We spend time with the senior Pulvers and hear about Lou’s Mayo Clinic adventures.
Christmas
is a flurry of unwrapping, cooking and eating.
We watch movies and put together puzzles. We drive to
As
the sun peeks over the horizon, we drive north intending to visit
We
breakfast in
We
follow Route 66 across
We
stop in the petrified forest and examine artifacts at an outdoor pioneer museum
and then lunch in Grants, NM. My Uncle
Gene used to live there so I was interested in looking around a bit. The local arts council was a good
diversion. We pressed on to
The
second day we ate a breakfast of potato burritos and beans and then began
driving. Behind us were stories of snow
storms, but the weather ahead was bright and clear. We finally stopped at
In
the morning the van did not stop. AAA
arrived and jump started the car. The
headlights were in the on position.
Bubba, our big orange cat, had spent the night in the van so he gets
credit for hitting the on switch sometime during the night.
On
Thursday, the third and final day of the trip, we just drove. A slight
miscalculation in mileage and plans, plus the time change made the day seem
long. We ate sandwiches out of the back
of the van when we stopped for gas and did not sightsee. We arrived home about