People have often said things like, “I admire you so much! I could never live where….-insert something here- ex: there are squatty potties in most bathrooms, there are lots of roaches/ants/lizards/rats/snakes/whatever, you can’t go to Walmart, etc..” They tell us how much they admire us for our sacrifice. Ever since we began this journey with God, we don’t feel like we are sacrificing much. We live in a different place yes, but although some things are weird, you just adapt. However, the biggest sacrifice is the loss of relationships and missing the people you love. It is hard to not be a part of their lives and what they are going through.
My Mom and my Dad are getting ready for a big move. My Mom has sold her house and they are trying to make arrangements for where they will live next. They have lived in the valley of central Washington for quite awhile. They moved there not long after Casey & I came to Indonesia for the first time in 1998. They bought a house and my Mom was a pastor at the Church of God. She has retired from that ministry and is working in an office, which she will finish up this summer. Caring for a large house has become more difficult for my Mom, I am sure that it is time to simplify her life and completely support her in that. I have been thinking about that, especially since we have some belongings here, at her house, and in Indiana. Our lives here on earth are short. It does not make a lot of sense to collect a lot of stuff. I’m thinking more and more about getting rid of things I can’t use, even if in the past I labeled them as “sentimental”. But, that’s off on a rabbit trail (although watching her move is helping me think about some things).
I find myself really wishing that I could say “thank you” to the community that she has lived in–for being a part of my parent’s lives for so long. Neither my brother or I have lived there, and we are thankful for other people who have become “family” to my folks. I know that it will be a transition and adjustment for them as they move to a new community and get to know new people. She has people who support her and know her and she’ll have to build a new network. For example, she’ll have to find new doctors, a new car mechanic, and new friends. As she leaves this town, I find myself (and my kids) processing this loss for ourselves as well. My kids only know this house, in that city, as where Grandma lives. They have never equated her with any other place. They find themselves really sad as they talk about the fact that they won’t come “home” to that place anymore. It has felt like a place that we can settle for a bit when we are in the States, and now, because things in life change—we will be even more “homeless” when we visit the U.S. I didn’t really like that valley much—and when Mom would tease, “C’mon, come live here!”, Casey and I would both crinkle our noses. The hills were brown, the buildings drab and the feed lots STINKY! When we would arrive from our drive from the airport, I remember Dad saying, “Roll down your windows and SMELL OUR CITY!” I also don’t know Spanish or Hispanic culture very well and as a result I often felt a little awkward there.
BUT, despite those strange or uncomfortable things, it was home for Mom and Dad. I treasure memories there so much my heart could burst! I remember playing with baby Ryan in the church parsonage where Mom and Dad lived. I remember Casey going with Dad and a church couple to try to find a real Christmas tree in the forest—and coming back with the ugliest Charlie Brown tree you could imagine. We had to tape some branches on with electrical tape! I remember drives to Seattle and Portland to see family and get to/from the airports. I remember getting to bring Dad home for the afternoon to visit when he was more mobile and lived in a smaller nursing home. I remember walking him around the block once when he lived there. It was really hard for him. It was the last walk we took together—my sweet Daddy who would meet me and jog with me every day during his lunch break from A.U. when I was in college. I remember getting back into the States in June 2011 with a tremendously broken heart—for many different reasons. One thing I was smarting from was how we were being treated by the local people here. The stress of that had built up to a monstrous level. We arrived in the evening, and early the next morning I went to the “Hispanic” grocery store by myself to buy some milk (…or possibly cheese!). It was 5 or 6am…an ungodly hour (translate: only a jet-lagged person is awake)…and the people cleaning the floor, preparing for the onslaught of customers greeted me cheerfully, “GOOD MORNING!”… I wanted to weep at their kindness. It was hard for me to handle that kindness right at that moment, and it reached in and touched my heart. I won’t forget it. I remember visiting the city pool, the library, the grocery store and watching some parades (what OTHER city has the “Lighted Farm Implement Parade”?). I also remember how many people in the community would use the high school track as a place to exercise, play, walk and talk. I went there often in the early morning or early evening.
So—our family is mourning our loss in the move. We thank you dear friends of my folks—for how you have loved them (and in doing so have loved us!). Thank you for developing in us a love for a city we weren’t that fond of to start with. Thank you for helping them now–especially as Mom starts to sort, sell, and pack. I wish I could be there to help and I can’t. It makes me thankful for those who step in to help.
Please say a prayer that God will continue to put the details in place. Please pray for them to be supported in this move by those around them. I am sure there will be sadness as they move into something new–please pray for them as they mourn and for our hearts too. There is a sadness we did not expect….I guess you always get that when things in life change.
sharonbernhardt 