My parents visited not too long ago. It had been 7 months since we had seen each other, and in terms of the kids, that's a big chunk of time. I can't describe how wonderful it was to have them here, to have a little piece of home living in the house, playing with the kids, seeing my life here. There were moments when my heart would grow heavy, when the realization of what we were missing by living an ocean apart from our families struck me with subtle but powerful blows. To be completely honest, I don't get home-sick much. I've put down roots here, and it's not often that I look back to the States with remorse. I think it's the lifestyle that we've found here; the slower life with less things, less chaos. It suits all of us so much better than the fast, big life that is so common in America. But having my parents here, it reminded me of things that are easy to forget when we are so far removed. And it was a lovely reminder, and a painful one as they left.
But, while they were here, my wonderful mother got her hands dirty with me as we started a little fledgling garden. We went over the basics, with the promise that she was just a skype-call away should I need help. Since she has left, most of the seeds we planted in little cups in the house have sprouted, each injecting me with a fierce pride that (even though it wasn't all that hard) my hands grew something, something that will sustain (even if only a little) my family when it matures. I think the day when I pick the first fruit or veg that is ready for eating (because honestly, I have no idea which to expect first)... THAT will be a good day. I think it may line up with the day I picked Paul up from the airport after his deployment, when my heart was screaming i love you i love you, but my head was screaming i did it i did it.
With the life that is springing up on my kitchen windowsills, so it is outside. The weather is turning for the better, wrapping us in gentle breezes and warm sun, intoxicating us with the smell of the earth waking up. The kids and I are shedding our winter skins, which were starting to rub at us all, being stuck inside with each other. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the rains to come back, for the wind to resume it's gusting, but I'm trying to live in the moment, enjoying this glimpse of spring.
