One Proud Mama... of her TCKs

Fridays, I usually link up with Five Minute Friday... you know that "blogging thing" where a topic prompt is posted and participants write for 5 minutes, unedited, on whatever thoughts trickle... or flash floods... out, based on that prompt, and then link back to the original post.

I'm not participating today, because I want to take a minute to brag on my gang... and give a quick update as to what's up with them. Frankly, these musings are motivated by last night's "Gala de Reconnaissance" - or end of the year awards assembly at the kids' school. 

You see, I was really hoping we wouldn't have to go. 

I've done the awards assembly thing many, many times... Let's see... Brendan will be 21 in November and he started school when he was 4. That means I've been at awards assemblies for my Wrightling crew for 16 years - even more if I count  AWANA and also throw in the ones I attended to just be there for siblings, nieces, nephews... 

I get frustrated by the "everyone must receive an award so that everyone feels valued and appreciated" mentality yet at the same time, there are those 3 or 4 really exceptional students who end up dominating with 8 or 9 genuine and accomplished awards compared to the normal student's one or two participation certificates. I'll be the first to admit that my perspective is probably skewed - so I'm not pronouncing a judgement as to right or wrong; simply understand that I JUST DON'T LIKE awards assemblies. Because of this, I was super delighted to receive an email from the school that said we could swing by the office and find out if any children in our family were receiving awards; in other words, we wouldn't have to go and sit for three plus hours if no one was actually going to parade across the stage and shake the principle's hand and receive an award. Since we had visitors arriving from the States that day, I figured we had a pretty decent excuse to skip IF there was no real reason to be there. Please note the IF in all caps... even though I detest these assemblies, I am a pleaser and wanna-be obedient rule follower who always tries to do what I think others expect, even when I don't want to. So, in my mind, I needed a more legit reason to not be there other than a whiny "But I don't wanna..."

Much to my surprise (and, if I'm honest, disappointment), I was told that 4 of our 6 WOULD be receiving awards.

We WOULD be going. And our visitors, such good sports, WOULD be joining us. For the whole kit and caboodle. I baked a layered cake and had ice cream ready to serve at home afterwards, hoping to soften the blow.

It was an awards assembly.

It was the best awards assembly I've ever been to. Those in charge kept things moving. People weren't afraid to laugh at themselves. Improv seemed to be encouraged and kept everyone laughing. Kindergarten grad was included - and was completed in about 15 minutes. The orchestra's "musical selections" were frequent, used to help with transitions and short (read 30 seconds - 1 minute). Only the top students received awards. All of the participation and other recognitions had already been presented at school during the day, in a pre-gala celebration that was much like a class party.

It was still a three hour marathon with a 15 minute intermission, but it was okay.

I was glad I went.

Now, back to the bragging on my gang ~ Four received an award, and I was a proud mama. Especially when you see the comments that went with each award.

,

The student who has demonstrated determination and remarkable perseverance in accomplishing her goals. She has demonstrated, in the whole of her work, a desire to learn and the will to apply that knowledge, aestheticism, attention to detail, cleanliness and a high quality of work as well as respect for her peers and for different artistic materials.

for her perseverance in the face of academic challenge and her desire to learn.

for her love for the Lord and her desire to serve Him.

for having met the academic requirements of two school years (Secondary 4 and 5), in French (her second language) with exceptional diligence devoted to her studies.

Yeah.

You could say I'm proud of these Wrightlings.

And just because Jon and Anna didn't receive a certificate, I've watched them work and progress and take risks and succeed - all year long.

Anna in Haiti

Anna working with a team and painting a school in Haiti

M&M and Elsie Mae at a park on the Wendake reservation in Quebec

Tori, playing the monkey at a park in Quebec

Bren, with college friends

More of the same

Tori with soccer buds

Rebekah and friends

Nadia and classmates on wear-your-pjs-to-school day... a really cool tradition here in Quebec

Rebekah, hard at work (??) at her school coffee shop/student center this past year

M&M's class participating in an all school painting project... and dressed in garbage bags

our soon to be graduated one

Little munchkins... just two summers ago.. Elsie's rocking some TCK style... sundress and snowboots

Jon enjoying the a Quebec fall

One of the "describers" or characteristics used when talking about TCKs is that they experience loss, lots of it, and as a result of choices not their own. And it is true. My Nadia walked out of school yesterday afternoon in tears. I asked her what she was feeling and she said something like this: "In Niger, it took me 3 or 4 years after switching to Sahel (the international school, with other TCKs) to feel like I belonged. And we left. Then in Michigan, I was feeling a part of things after two years. And we moved here. This year, I've made some great friends and feel a part of this class. But we're all graduating and going different directions. They are great friends and I'm going to miss them. These goodbyes are hard." I cried with her. I think Anna and Tori were a little teary eyed, too. The littles just begged to continue with the next "Adventures in Odyssey" episode. Believe me, I know all too well that this is a hard as in ripping-your-heart-apart-hard part of their lives as I try to listen and love my gang through these sometimes moments, sometimes seasons.

I find it sad that this seems to be the most discussed, almost to the point of ad nauseum, aspect of their lives. Because it is only a part of the TCK experience, and may not even be the defining one - certainly not for all. 

But back to that conversation with Nadia. 

After a few minutes of tears, I asked her who she was talking to as they were walking out of school. She named her friend and she said they were talking and crying and commiserating together. Her friend is not a TCK - but they were both sharing the pain of impending loss together. And I really don't know if my girl has said more goodbyes... had more grief and loss in her life than her friend. I did follow up with another question. I asked Nadia why she was able to make deeper friendships faster with each place. Her response was insightful: "Because I've matured and I've gotten better at figuring out what I have in common with people. It is easier to make friends when I find something that can be a bridge."

I guess as a mama to my TCKs, I know there will be grief and loss. I guess I don't think we have the corner on that market, however. We try and deal with all the grief, the loss and those never ending transitions when needed and for as long as needed. But we don't want to let that define our family. 

It was eye-opening for me to see, at this awards assembly, what bridges others perceive my children to be building. They weren't necessarily the ones I would have expected... or even felt to be their natural areas of talent and inclination. 

I also know that my crew agrees with a sentiment currently circling among several of their TCK friends... who are spread across at least 6 continents: "How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard." (AA Milne as Winnie the Pooh). That's their words, not mine (although I guess they could just be parroting words to keep up some image that they feel they have to project ~ I don't think so). That "something" is those past friendships with such a wide variety of people  and is what allows them to build bridges, resulting in new relationships that may blossom into new friendships.

My Precious... or otherwise known as my Amish rocking chair

One of my friends recently wrote a post at a life overseas... and thus you now know the inspiration for this "true confession..."

We'd only been married for a short time when we discovered that our first child would be arriving in time to celebrate our first anniversary with us. Talk about instant delight with a good mix of terror and "Ummm... God, that's not quite the timing we were thinking..."! However, it wasn't look before we settled into our new reality: WE. WERE. PARENTS.

No, we hadn't officially met Wrightling #1. Not yet. But our lives had already changed and would continue to so, all because we had a little one on the way.

Of course, grandparents on both sides were super excited; hubby's mom squealed and did a happy dance... both grandfathers just looked at us with surprised and goofy grins. My mom promptly purchased a first gift - an Amish rocking chair! I love that chair! It was the one chair in which I could sit after a long day on my feet teaching middle school ...and my back wouldn't hurt. It was my favorite place to be as I sat and rocked my little guy while nursing him or trying to calm the colicky him. It was where we snuggled together on long and feverishly sleepless nights, played peek-a-boo, sang "Deep in the Hundred Acre Wood,..." The list could go on and on.

Yes, I love that rocker!

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I hesitated to write the rest of this one... Wondering who might wonder if I was "a few french fries short of a Happy Meal," as we like to say in our family.

But this is a for real, true story. And no names have been changed to protect the guilty!

So please head on over to Missionary Mom's Companion - and don't forget to answer my question at the end of the post.

Thanks for reading!
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photo credit: 

juliecinci via photopin cc

31 days... of dinner chez les Wrightlings... in which I have absolutely NO IDEA what my family ate for dinner nor any of the conversation that took place while they did. {day 4}

But?

I can tell you all about what Nana and Pop pop ate and the treasured time and lovely conversation I was privileged to enjoy with them while my family was out and about eating who knows what. 

And... I can't really truthfully say absolutely NO IDEA... because I do know what they ate and I do know what they left on a plate for me in case I was hungry when I got back to the hotel after spending time with my grandparents at the hospital.

We are in SE Missouri right now, hanging out at a hotel and at a hospital and taking advantage of a few days off school to spend time with my grandparents. It wasn't our original plan. I certainly did not plan to be doing a 31 days blogging post from here when I changed my mind about my original 31 days posting plan (it was like a 180' change, too). But it is all good - and I wouldn't have traded the past few days for anything in the world (although Nana might... a broken hip isn't fun at all... and she is really struggling with being in the hospital and not being able to go back home right away. Stairs and broken hips and therapy to get that hip back into shape don't really get along too well.

So last night, "dinner chez les Wrightlings" was mostly managed by their daddy back at the hotel. We can't say enough about Drury Suites... Inns... Lodges... all things Drury. Here in Cape, at least, they offer a pretty great deal - discounted rates if you are visiting family in one of two local hospitals AND complimentary breakfast AND dinner. When a meal out with our family costs $40 minimum (with coupons), those complimentary meals are great on the budget. Prior to Tim taking the kids back to the hotel from the hospital, Nana did share her popsicle with the littles - and they are still sporting their resulting red mustaches.

So Tim and kids came back to the hotel - and sliding into the hotel restaurant just in the nick of time as they were cleaning up the buffet. They permitted my crew to serve themselves directly of the cart instead of telling them they were too late. We find those things (people being kind even when it is not required of them) often happen when we travel with our munchkin mob. They ate hotdogs, chicken tenders, chili and mac and cheese. They thought they hit the jackpot, even making up a plate for their mama (but it wasn't quite so appetizing when I got back from the hospital much later in the evening). Tim said it was a pretty boring night around the table - but they were in a bit of a rush since the buffet staff was waiting on them to finish.

 I hung out at the hospital with Nana and Pop pop while my mom and aunt went to look for a place that Pop pop would be able to stay while Nana would be temporarily in a nursing home during her physical rehab time. They actually live just across the state line, in Illinois - the road they travel is called "The Old Grapevine Trail" - winding, very dark at night and very hilly with lots of critters dashing across the road, not a whole lot of access to help if/when needed, and no cell phone reception and 30 minutes away. My aunt lives in Cape (the town with the hospitals), so when my grandparents need help, she drives that way and then brings them back.

It was heartbreakingly sweet and frustrating all at the same time to listen to my grandparents discuss their current situation. Nana wants to go home and isn't ready to admit that she can't... and I think she's afraid if she cedes to not going home this time, she's taking the first step to giving up living independently in the home she and Pop pop have shared for over 60 years. While I can't understand that - I do know how sad it would be to know that I wouldn't be going back to the only home where I've ever visited my grandparents... ever. Pop pop, on the other hand, is in a wheel chair, suffering from congestive heart failure and on oxygen 100% of the time, and recognizes that their present home is not set up for success for Nana to rehab from her hip injury - too many stairs, throw rugs and accumulation of mementos to celebrate memories from 67 years of marriage.

Which got them off on another topic... and I saw bright lights shining on a 67 year romance as they spoke of Nana turning 18 - and them getting married just 17 days later... of them celebrating their first anniversary with my mom... my nana just days shy of 19 years old... Hearing my pop pop talk... calling Nana his bride... seeing his love and concern and willingness to face her sometimes fiery red-head wrath because he wants to see her back up on her feet again while the whole time he knows that he probably never will be this side of heaven... and then watching them shift conversation again and talk about how she'll never not be a red head (and me throwing in the fact that my kids have decided that I'll be just like Nana in that respect)...

So many emotions, 

     so many hard things, 

         the frustrating sides of memory and ability loss, 

               the learning to accept help,

                 make decisions out of love instead of pride,

                    considering as viable emphatic NEVER befores - because of love...

                        

fighting to hold on to those NEVERS - because of love and gratitude for all that presently is...

...so many hard yet beautiful glimpses amidst so many changes.

And even though I missed dinner with my Wrightlings... Last night qualifies as one of the best treast ever, spending those few hours just me and my nana and pop pop.

Posts in this Series:

Squirrel Soup {day 1}

Chimichangas {day 2}

in which I start conniving... {day 3}

Today? He and I are leaving for Uni...

 

Some mamas dread this day.

I'm not sure what I'm feeling because it won't be the day

for which I'd been preparing myself.

 

I had expected our goodbye to take place in a small W. African capital city before he hopped on a plane with his daddy for a vacation in Ireland and then a return to Michigan.

Once back home in Michigan, he'd start working on his driver's license

and hopefully get a job working for one of the men in our sending church -

a "gap" year to earn some money and readjust to living in the States before we

sent him off to face the wolves... at college.

And for that whole year, I'd be far away, wondering how he was doing, 

wishing I could talk with him...

But God changed those plans.

Brendan began to sense God's direction for his future - studying Environmental Science.

He worked hard in his classes, studied many times when he would have rather played,

scored well on those all important standardized tests...

and was offered some scholarship monies -

The school is near my old college stomping grounds.

There's even a young man from Niger also attending the school.

This so wasn't the original plan - but I'm really appreciating these changes.

First of all...I'm the one taking him.

 It won't be a day - 

but rather a week of orientation for both student and parent.

He's not an ocean and a desert and half a continent... 

or a minimum of three plane rides... away.

He's only a day's drive distant.

He's studying something he's passionate about - 

or at least as passionate as my pretty laid back boy generally gets.

And he's excited about this fresh start and meeting new people where the slate is clean.

He's hoping to find friends who love volleyball and Irish music, who think gaming is great, who want to discuss Arthurian legends and maybe give fencing a try, while still searching for ways to serve their community.

He's ready!

So I'm excited - I can't wait to watch and advise and encourage as he navigates this transition.

I'm looking forward to seeing him discover the campus, the other international students in his class, the team of people who are there to help him, and begin those first tastes of post-secondary school life.

And there's this canoe trip/photo op for parents the school keeps promising us!

So while I'm still sure that moment when I have to give him that first final hug goodbye 

to start my trip back to Michigan and the rest of my brood

will be heartbreakingly hard - I really am more than okay.

I love this boy and I'm delighted with the plan God has given him.

If you think of us, or me -in the goodbye, please pray-

But more importantly,

please pray that God meets him there, 

in this adjustment and 

in this new phase of life

...in an unmistakable way.

Five Minute Friday ~ Last

I saw this photo awhile ago - and I've been looking for an excuse to use it... I'm not even sure where I first saw it now... but my kids think these would be FABULOUS "lawn ornaments!" I wonder what the missionary committee would say if we had some of these in our front yard ~ or if they'd just sigh and think, "Strange missos from Africa... again!?"

But that's all really just an aside ~ 

It seems like I hear (and can participate in myself, quite frequently, if I'm brutally honest with myself) in criticism of this, that or the other thing... It might be the government, the church leadership, the mission leadership, the boss, the teacher, the pastor, the husband (or wife), the kids, the in-laws, the doctor...

Well, I'm sure you get the gist.

The point is, so many of us are willing to be critical and complain; we are so good at pointing out what's wrong. Lately, I think the Holy Spirit has been challenging me to see more of what's right (because that's a pretty good indicator that He's already at work there)... or asking me how I can take steps to act or change so that those problems I'm so freely criticizing become less problematic.

Ronald Reagan stated it a little bit differently...

"To sit back hoping that someday, some way, someone will make things right is to go on feeding the crocodile, hoping he will eat you last - but eat you he will."

...but it seems to be basically the same idea.

Why is it... how is it... we can still feel good about ourselves when we see problems, acknowledge the injustice and wrongness of what's happening, complain about everyone else's lack of action, criticize those mistaken plans of attack that don't mesh with our own philosophy... and still not feel moved to move ourselves. Because I still believe that one of the most accurate barometers of God's life changing presence in my life is the clear result of His force acting on this body... in other words? The real-life, visible displacement that should occur as a result.

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Also thinking about last in another way today... 'cause it is the last day of the first part of our boy's life. Tomorrow, he leaves for college and new adventures.

And even while we're excited for tomorrow, we're treasuring last.

Now, set your timer friends, clear your head, for five minutes of free writing without worrying about getting it right. These are your people. The poets, the mothers, the bloggers, the writers, the pencil and paper artists. Let’s do this.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.

2. Link back here and invite others to join in.

3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community...

Wordless Wednesday... a lot more than just a few, from Joe and Andi's day