Saying Goodbye

One week until we leave Shanghai.  When we arrived, not quite two years ago, Eli was four; Townes was eight; and Naomi a newly turned 11.  Now in the jaded eyes of a 43 year old, two years is a short time, but to these kids, it’s a big chunk of their childhood. 

The Bund, May 2012

Early subway ride, March 2012

Matthew and I were talking this morning about the ups and downs of moving our family around the world.  Overall, we agreed, we accomplished our primary goal* – children’s minds blown open.  

*He also did some pretty good work for ISC.

A few things we've learned:

·      We can do hard things.  And what we previously thought was hard, really isn’t.  There are millions.  No billions of people dealing with harder things.

·      Clean air and water are precious and never to be taken for granted.

·      Many, many people have never seen the Milky Way. 

·      The world is big but made smaller when you have friends from all over it.

·      It’s important to pay attention to which direction the subway train is going before getting on.

·      Chinese people can often be quite frank, but what they say is often true.

·      A cup of hot water is often good.

·      Dumplings are always good.

·      Naomi’s a really good baker, incredibly brave, and way cooler than I was at that age.  Or really any age.

·     Townes is likely in thousands of Chinese tourist photos.  His appeal transcends cultures.  And as his teacher says, his enthusiasm is infectious.

·      Eli thinks it’s pretty cool that he gets to be American and Chinese.  And we all have a better (not complete) understanding of what that really means for him and our family.

·      Matthew’s really good at his job, but he should take a month off to dig in the garden and not think about environment, health and safety.

·       I'm a city girl at heart, actually quite a good cook, and should probably get a job soon.  Also, British people think I'm really funny.

·      We can all feel at home in a city of 30 million or in a town of 900. 

Having said that last one, however, I have to say what’s become abundantly clear over the past two years is that Vermont is our home.  These kids are Vermonters.  They never met a cold body of water they wouldn't swim in.  They crave trees.  They miss stars.  Last week, Townes’ teacher had them write a "memory box" poem.  As I pack up all of our things to go home, I feel like I’m drowning in my own memory box.  I’m emotional and nostalgic and nervous about moving back.  I'm sad to say goodbye to new friends. But reading his poem helps.  It reminds me of everything we have waiting for us.     

Memories of Life

I will put in my box

The peep of a peeper peeping in the night.

The smell of potatoes in ash blown air.

I will put in my box

The twinkling of stars reflected in water.

The smell of freshly felled grass forever fallen.

My box is fashioned from

Dreams of the past and hopes for the future.

The lid is made of mysteries, the hinges are made from love and in the corners there’s grief.

I will live in my box

In the past and the present, adding new things to remember.

Wishing for the sun to rise every day spent thinking.

- Townes DeGroot

It's time to go home.