We came to the Bahamas for our annual summer vacation. For the fourth time we crossed the waters from Florida's shores to the shores of the Bahamas. A luxury of our life lived in Vero Beach for the last four years. And possibly our last time to cross over on our own boat...as we soon will sell this part of our Vero life. Making room for new things.A pause...to enjoy this beautiful gift of the Bahamas with friends, both old and new. We have friends from our Kentucky days who come to the Bahamas in June...they have known us since before we were married. They knew us as we said yes to marriage, and then watched us leave for Laos. And then they watched as we came back. Their hearts were stretched as we came into their lives, only to leave again. And they still loved us through it all. And amazingly, our children love each other in a special way. I am always in awe at how our four children play together as if they're cousins. Not missing a beat. No initial shyness. Just instant falling into place with each other. A true gift. I have savored this over these last four trips to the Bahamas. Our meeting place. Where Kentucky and Florida intersects and we can feel as though we are neighbors again.
And then we have shared the Bahamas with new friends from Florida. This year friends joined us and we were able to share a place of deep treasure and meaning with these new beloved friends. Friends we soon will be saying good-bye to as we change continents. Friends who will join in with our Kentucky friends in feeling their hearts stretched. And we, too, will grieve as we say good-bye.
But this visit is different. This year feels unlike the previous three summers spent out here. Because unlike the past summers the Bahamas has been a vacation in our summer...a pause from our normal before we return to our normal. This time, we do not return to normal. We do not pause in the Bahamas before returning to life as usual in Florida. We go back to a very harsh reality that all must be taken off the walls of our beloved Vero home, packed in boxes. Given away. Packed in suitcases, shipped to Thailand. All is changing. Horizons will look different when we go back. And so I feel internal restlessness as I come to a beautiful place that is supposedly a place of rest...
I sat with this the other day and realized it was like the ninth month of pregnancy. The month that feels endless, and yet we all know with our rational brains it WILL come to an end. As the body is stretched to a very uncomfortable position. The swollen stomach hides the feet. You know they are there, but you can't see them. And even if you bend forward to glimpse them, they are swollen. Nothing is the same. Nothing is normal. The baby is taking up space, taking up oxygen. Everyone is uncomfortable. And while the previous months were the needed space to prepare and transition from old normal to new normal, this last month leaves you so ready for your body to come back that you are finally ready for this baby to come. This baby that will bring a multitude of unknown into your life. You will never be the same. There is no going back to what was the old normal. And who knows? Will this baby be happy? A crier? A sleeper? Will you be a good mom? Will you feel an instant bond or will you find yourself catapulted into postpartum depression? Who will know...But at this moment, your body is so stretched and uncomfortable...you are ready to dive in...
As we sit in this awkward space of just over a month until we move, I am very aware that nothing is normal. There is NO normal. The Bahamas is not my home. And when I go home, it will soon not be home any longer. We are in transition. And there is no way forward but to pass through the birth canal into a new reality.
And this birth was planned long ago...we stepped in and said yes to a new reality. In fact we were in the Bahamas last summer when we got the email that said "Pete, you got the position! We want you to come work with us!" And we said yes to return to Thailand. We stood looking at our old and familiar horizon with a twinge of excitement in our hearts at a possibility of a dream coming true. We had time to feel the excitement, and then to say yes and step in.
And here we are in the ninth month. Waiting. Expectant. Uncomfortable. Hopeful. Scared.
It comes with pain, and it will come with beauty. New life is waiting...
