Thursday, May 31, 2012

Time. Out.

This house is full of emotion.  
The end of school projects, reports, and presentations.
The understanding that each day we might be doing something or seeing someone for the very last time.
The arguments over who gets to use what technology, and why their need trumps the need of someone else.
Knowing that things will not feel comfortable at "home" for a very long time.
Reflections on struggles of the past, viewing pictures, sharing memories, laughing at Spanglish and cultural misunderstandings.
Turning in novels in Spanish.  Filling up the last pages of Spanish essays and notebooks.
Deciding what needs to come with us, and what we need to leave behind.
The taste of tropical fruit, chocolate, steamy caldos and soups.
An embrace from a friend that lasts just a little bit longer.
A disorderly house full of memories, good and bad.
The light at the park, the smell of eucalyptus, the warmth of piling into a bed together.

So we said, "Time. Out."

We left for our favorite park in Bogota, where there was fresh air, quiet space, and green grass.  And for even just a few hours, all the stress and sorrow just melted away.  The kids fell into their own space,  making up adventures, floating bark boats, working it out.

I took some pictures, but I mostly just sat and watched, and I was flooded with gratitude.



Yes, dear hearts.  You are processing so much right now.  It is hard work.  But remember, the best medicine for sorrow IS gratitude.  And you still have each other.  No matter what relationships enter and leave your lives, the connection you have as siblings will always be present.  Remember these connections, dear ones, and consider each moment you have together with gratitude.


  1. Beautiful post, Jen! "The warmth of piling in bed together" Pack that one up and take it with you.

  2. I admire the wisdom, sensitivity and courage you show as you parent and walk with your family during this time of transition. What an amazing gift to them - and yourself. You all are in my thoughts.

  3. Oh, so poignant. Both comments so true, too.

    Bev B.