Leaving

In high school, we use to "emulate" passages by other authors-- basically use their style but replace our own topic.  I'm afraid I'm going to be somewhere between emulating and down-right plagiarizing, but since only a few friends and family read this, I'm not worrying!

Everything in Italics is my mostly copied/a bit adapted description from a mama congo blog writer:

In about three months our lives will drastically change. My husband and I, with our three children, will leave the place we’ve called home for the last ten and half years. We will probably never return to live here again.
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When we first came to Uganda, we didn’t know much about the place, we came because we were young, my parents were here and it seemed worth the experiment for a couple years.  We didn’t have plans to start a family in this country. My, how everything’s changed.

Just as we had a “feeling” we should move to Uganda. Now we have that same “feeling” that it’s time for us to leave. It just feels right and we have wonderful plans on the horizon, but boy is this hard. In fact, we’re feeling a bit lost in our last months here. This is the only home our children have ever known. Our kids have been loved by Dorothy, our nanny, who’s helped us raise them for as long as they’ve been loved by us. This will be hard, but it is time.

And so I have lots of questions about how to do this, but more importantly how to do this right. Will there be something meaningful I forget to say or do? Do we make a big deal out of our last goodbyes? Or are our children really too young to understand? There will be tears. There might even be sobs. I hope we don’t needlessly upset them.

I can’t help but think about how much easier our departure would be if we didn’t have children. Their little lives became a game changer for us living in Uganda. Once we had children and the people around us began to care for them and love them, I could feel the roots sprout from my feet and bind us here. They helped us burp our girls when they were babies, nurse them back to health when they were sick, they’ve memorized their every tick and tock.  This will be hard, but it is time.

Will our children, especially Rachel, have any authentic memories from these first years of their lives? Or will their only understanding of Uganda come through the stories we tell them over and over? Will the photos they see when they’re older be the only images that remain in their heads? This will be hard, but it is time.

My husband and I always say the hardest part about having living abroad is the leaving part. Goodbyes in your host country are usually forever. Sure, it’s hard leaving the United States and saying goodbye to parents and grandparents, but you know they’ll always be a part of your life. You’ll see them again. They’re your home base. They have the internet and email and Facebook and all those other lovely things that keep up connected to those we care about in the States.

When we leave Uganda, it is unclear what kind of communication we'll have.  We will not see many pictures of the loved ones we leave here. We will miss births and weddings and illness and death and all the minutiae in between that founded our friendships. This will be hard, but it is still the right time.

So, here her writing ceases and mine begins. What she said. But also with so many particular moments, memories, people, places, routines, smells, textures, plant life, seasonings, ways of praying and greeting and honoring and being present.   So many things that you can't replace, you can't have from a distance, you can't pretend will be remembered in all their fullness.

Today our dog died.  We've had several good long-lasting-like-family dogs and this was one of those. Her name was Athena.

The kids had dressed Athena and Rufus in sweatshirts and the dogs kindly capitulated

And I cried hard, in a sort of heaving way which I don't usually do.  I know I was crying for her but I know she was sort of also a conglomerate of so many confused emotions-- loss of her, loss of a season of our life, loss of control about the future of other loved ones here that we may or may not be able to help in their times of need.

I'm sure I'll give more specifics later but for the bare facts-- we will leave in June.  Mark is taking over as the executive director of Uganda Partners (please be discreet with that as it will be announced formally in June), we are celebrating 10 years of USP this semester, we are trying to pack up, get in quality time with lots of friends and loved ones, trying to anticipate some things but also let emotions roll as they will.  We will live with my folks at the beginning (in PA) and then see how that arrangement works; open to renting in Sewickley while we look into our longer terms thoughts and plans.

Obviously, the main thing stabilizing me is a sense that this was the role that would give us more connection to Uganda.  And that for all the people who will miss us, we have many people who will welcome us and care for us-- having missed us for the last ten years.