I remember saying before Caillean left that we were thinking about this upcoming year abroad as similar to that moment right before you jumped into a wave. We just had to hold our breath and jump in. We knew we would come out the other side, our hair a mess and water in our eyes. What I didn't realize then was what the time in the wave would teach us.
When thinking about the year abroad we considered some of the obvious challenges. Things like time away from home, navigating a new culture, learning a new language where all strategized and quantified. What we couldn't plan for was the slow evolution of life in a completely foreign country and the effects it would have on you and therefor on us.
Now, it's not fair for me to tell my daughter's story. She is the only one that really could put into words what her experience has been like. I can only tell my story. A story that I didn't even really take the time to think about before sending my daughter on the trip of a lifetime. I knew then I had to be brave and try to anticipate her needs before even taking a moment to wonder what it would be like for me to allow my first born to fly away for 10 months. We spent months preparing, making sure she was studying arabic, packing, planning, and holding back tears. Once she was on the plane I kind of thought that was going to be the beginning of just busying myself with school and work and turning the pages of the calendar waiting for Caillean to come home. What I didn't anticipate at all was the growth and challenges I was going to face with my first born having left the nest.
In the beginning it was exciting and new. There were pictures of her travels and new places. Stories of new people she had met and experiences she had. That quickly turned into questions on how to navigate pieces of day to day life. Those little questions started to pile up. The questions and concerns became relentless. I began to dread the day's texts about the newest concern but also started realizing that even though I had time to live my life busy with studies and work I came home everyday to the familiar. Caillean never had that chance to just rest in the familiar. She was on all the time trying to learn one new aspect of life or another. I felt tired from having to figure out how best to help my daughter but also my heart ached for her. I just wanted to wrap my arms around her and tell her it was going to be ok. But I couldn't and wouldn't be able to for 6 more months.
Then the holidays came. I thought it wouldn't be so bad seeing as though she was in a country that doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving or Christmas. Facebook doesn't differentiate between countries though. Pictures of friends and family seemingly having a stress free and fun time together was just another reminder that life abroad was hard. For me I had moments of happiness being with my extended family but they were so very fleeting. I had a heaviness in my heart knowing every moment how sad, disheartened, and tired my daughter was at trying to keep a positive outlook at a time in her life when nothing was easy or familiar and so of course she thought about coming home.
The holidays did pass and Caillean's second semester of school started.We fell back into our routines of work, school, Orion's after school busyness, and the normal pace of life.The second semester changed everything. We didn't anticipate the difference in classroom dynamics or the English system of education. Classrooms are large and sometimes extremely disruptive in Oman. The environment was completely different than the smaller classes and relative control in the classrooms Caillean was used to. Add to that the English system where three sciences are taught every year for 4 years meaning she was walking into a third year Physics class on top of a different math curriculum and man oh man!! She took the initiative to change the tract of schooling she was in. With the academic pressure off, she was freed up to focus on forming friendships and navigating the other aspects of life.
Teenagers are teenagers wether American or not. The issues are very similar. A teenager wants friends, a safe and calm home life, a way to communicate and hang out, plus being successful at school. Up until this point, Caillean was struggling to put all these aspects together in a way that felt like success to her. Caillean is the only one that can really tell her story and what that change was like but things got better. Much better. Texts were now funny and light hearted. There were photos and fewer phone calls. There were no more tears. For me, it wasn't until things started improving for my daughter could I even begin to think about how I was doing. The obvious things were of course on the surface. I did and do miss my daughter. A lot. She has always been one of those people you just love to be around. Without her daily presence there is something major missing. I can't really articulate what that is really like. Almost like there is no sun and therefor no gravity or orbits for the planets to travel. It felt like it was a little darker around the house a lot and things were a little wonky. We adjusted though. We had to. We pulled ourselves together. There is no new bright start that we orbit around. And it isn't fair to say all light left when Caillean left. Our relationship with our son shifted. We became focused on his growth and his new place in the family. Conversations around the kitchen table were different now. Our day to day took on new life of its own. We have continued to stay on track even if we are wobbling along on our paths. We do feel a bit off kilter without her around but it has become the new normal. But now the conversation had changed, even with Caillean. I started to really enjoy hearing from her. Things were going so well. She even asked if she could stay in Oman longer.
Just when we were getting used to this new normal we got an email. The email. The one with our daughter's estimate return date. My husband and I looked at each other and I swear it was like the ice around our hearts melted. It's cheesy I know but a breath of life and hope and sunshine all came through in that email. I immediately counted the number of weeks it was until she was home. Then I thought about it in terms of weekends. I counted again. 18 weekends until she was back. 18!! We could totally do this. It was just a matter of 3 more jobs for Greg, 4 more births for me, and a season of baseball for Orion. It would be at the end of school, the beginning of summer, and the time for Caillean to reenter our atmosphere. To say we are over joyed is an understatement.
Once that news started to settle I realized something big. It was almost like I had been holding my breath for the last 6 months. I had kept my head down, tried to hold it all in, but I forgot to look around. I had lost my connection. I had been too connected to my rational mind and the feelings of shadow and loss. I had forgotten to connect the magic that is in the present. Even though the entire time Caillean has been in Oman wasn't nonstop fun and adventure it has been nonstop growth. Winter in New England is a time of quiet underground growth. To be held by the dark earth to rest, for roots to form, and seeds to be nurtured. The Earth is striped bare. There is an absolute clarity to the sky present between the branches in the cold winter air. This gift is only offered when the leaves have been blown to the ground and trampled underfoot. I hadn't realized that now was the time to grab the wonder and possibility that this new life had taken on. It was the time to know the growth was happening, even if the flowers weren't yet visible.
Disaster comes from two Latin words. Dis-meaning apart and aster-meaning star. In many ways the last 6 months have been a bit of a disaster. I have been apart from my star. I have lost the day to day connection with her, for now. But even more so I had forgotten my eternal connection to her. The connection that will never been torn apart. Not by miles, not by time, not even by challenges. Equally I had forgotten to connect to the quiet growth that was taking place and I forgot my connection to the tides. The ebb and flow of life. The moments when you feel on top of it all had been replaced by only focusing on being swept under. Now that I know I won't drowned, I am taking the time to feel the movement of the air on my face, the pressure of it all, and to notice the light through the waves.
For parents thinking about this trip of a life time for their children, I must say that it is hard. For you and for your child. You prepare them as best as you can. You try hard not to think of yourself but rather what you can give to your child. You think of what your child will learn and do and who they will meet. These are the gifts you expect to receive and they have been so worth the ache of my heart. But there is more it than just that. My life has changed. I know I have given my child roots and have watched her spread her wings. This has offered me an unsurpassed feeling of pride and in turn has planted my feet firmly on my path. She has taught me so much, not only about the culture and country she is living in but about life. Up until this point the path had been fairly clear. Now though the path is beginning to take the next bend. I can't clearly see what lies ahead. The sweetness of my daughter coming home is coming closer and closer but so is the time she will leave on her next adventure. I know the only thing I can plan for on my path is that I just have to put one foot in front of the other. I am beginning to see there will be moments of clarity and moments when I just have to jump in and fumble blindly.
Since things have turned around for Caillean and since I know her time in Oman is winding down, I am able to see the bigger picture again. I am becoming aware of the feeling of being connected to the tides again. I know there will be moments when I feel like am floating on top and moments I am swept under. The gift now is to remember not just to hold my breath but to jump in and enjoy the feeling of the movement of the water. I can trust that the unknown will offer its own lessons and that ultimately I will be safe. All that happens will be the experience that helps me grow. And all that happens before Caillean even steps off the plane.
