I'm extracting a segment of an email that I wrote to my sister, Janet, early this morning in response to her question of, "How are we doing?" I think this sums it up pretty well. It's raw, it's honest. It will hopefully be something I look back on one day soon and say, "Yep, that was a really rough time, but wow - this grind was worth it, thank you GOD."
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It's really incredible how much change we have intentionally subjected ourselves to and how HARD everything feels. If I'd known then, what I know now, I think I would have gone back to Texas and said, "Let's take this in baby steps, instead of ... you know ... let's flip our entire world upside down the triplet's junior year of high school, and beat it with a broom for months on end."
The kids are actually phenomenal, hanging in there and persevering like nothing I could have imagined. William earned his Eagle Scout, and is excelling on the rock climbing team. Elizabeth will be earning her Eagle Scout, soon, and is running cross-country and making a load of new friends. Carolyn is still working on her Eagle Scout, running cross-country with her sister, and recently landed an elected spot on student council. Henry is remaining involved in scouting, has increased his friend count 10 fold, and goes rock climbing with William, when he is not playing video games. I don't like the games, he does. It's a compromise.
As for me, I've been hanging on by a thread and it is fraying fast. My courage has been replaced with a debilitating fear and every so often, I get a glimpse of myself and say out loud, "STOP IT. It's time to RISE." I've been terrified that something bad is going to happen to Charlie and/or the kids, and the vulnerability I feel at this point is unlike anything I've ever experienced. For someone who craves order and control, this is the exact opposite reality.
It doesn't help that we've had Elizabeth to the urgent care for what we thought was a broken foot (thankfully not); Henry now thinks he broke his finger (hopefully not), and their school went in to a 2-hour lock down last week because of a gun threat. My heart is constantly in my throat.
That courage of conviction I possessed, has been replaced by a trembling anxiety that finds me clutching a tea cup, hugging my knees, and crying, "Why did we do this?? HOW COULD I DO THIS TO MY FAMILY? How could I be so reckless?"
We owned our nicely furnished house. I had a good job. We had a community. We gave it all up because... why again? That reality was at least tangible. This one is not.
It would help if we had friends or family in the area to reassure us. It would help if we had several definitive jobs lined up. It would be good to know that benefits for our family will continue next year. It would definitely ease my mind to know that we could buy a great house, at a reasonable price, any time we want. But we don't really know anyone here. The job market feels extremely difficult to crack in to and takes time. Real estate is dismal in this area (low inventory and ridiculous prices) and we've been in an expensive, extremely "tired" rental for a week - with another three weeks to go - before our furniture even arrives. After camping for 12 weeks, we are still in sleeping bags for another 4 weeks until our beds are unpacked. Our couch is being conveyed with the Texas house, so we'll continue to sit in camp chairs until we have a better line of sight on where we'll ultimately be. I suppose.
I desperately want to settle in, but I can't.
Is Vermont even where we want to be? The breathtaking beauty of this area that I experienced in July, has given way to seeing a lot more trash on the streets. Rundown homes. Homelessness. What seems like a lot of people teetering on the brink of poverty. I've heard living in "The Woodlands" is like living in a bubble and it's true. It's only when you're outside of the bubble that you realize how nice it actually is. The things I didn't like about it, are now the things I miss. Why must I be so fickle?
Winter is coming soon, and we're nervous about it - despite having just bought season ski passes. I found a new dentist last week, that gave me the worst cleaning I've ever had. Now, I need to find a new dentist. The smallest things, like this, shoot me in a to a pit of despair.
Why am I not looking for the positive? Where is my faith?
Why are we HERE? I was thinking that God put us here, the universe unraveling as it should and all, but now I'm wondering if it was the devil?
OMG. Was the direct line that I thought I had to the Holy Spirit hacked?!
Like Andy Dufresne who climbed through 500 yards of raw sewage on his belly to reach freedom in The Shawshank Redemption, I'm furiously hoping / praying that we will soon be gloriously holding our hands above our heads on the other side of this mountain. We've wanted this "simple" life for at least 20 years. Now we're almost here, and I'm thinking retreating back to the prison through the sewer pipe would be easier because the known is a lot more comforting and easier than the unknown. But then I remember: To achieve something extraordinary, we must be willing to wait and grind longer than anyone else. Lord knows I have endurance, but this has been one hell of a grind. I'm ready for a vista.
Do me a solid, God. Please do me a solid.
PS: Today or anytime this week would be super. Until then, a huge dose of patience would be great.
PSS: One of the greatest gifts about this belly climbing experience through the sewer, is how close our family is growing and how we are truly in the trenches on all of this, together. We grasp the critical need for one another, and the children's compassion and faith, is blooming before my eyes. No sooner did I write that PS above, William said to me, "Mom, don't forget that good things come to all who wait. Today is all we have, which is why the prayer tells us, "Give us this day, our Daily Bread. Patience is a virtue."
Wow. Out of the mouths of babes.
