The Plunge Down Under

In Memory of a Friend

A few days ago when I first began writing about friendship, grief, and loss across the seas, I had no idea that I would wake up the next morning to the kind of news that is never welcome.  Noticing the name of a friend of mine in the subject line of an email made my heart sink. A quick scan of the content confirmed the worst, and I began to grieve.

It still seems impossible that Bobbie could be gone so quickly.  I cannot quite believe that it is true, partly I am sure because I do not want it to be so.  My heart aches for her children and husband.  Their grief and loss I cannot begin to comprehend.  At a time like this, I feel the distance between Australia and North America more than ever.  I long to be present to mourn with those who mourn and to weep with those who weep.  All I can do from this distance is to pray, to remember, and to offer a few words of tribute in this post.

There are many, many people who knew Bobbie far better than I.  I have considered whether I should even write about her.  But she touched my life during the six years that I spent homeschooling our children in Pittsburgh, and I feel a deep desire to share here what I appreciated about her since I cannot be present to do so in person with others who loved her.

When I think of Bobbie what first comes to mind is her generous, and thoroughly genuine, spirit. There was a refreshing absence of pretense about her.  Her forthrightness made me love her almost at once.  Spending time with her revealed to me that I was not as honest with others as I should be.  Far from resenting this, however, I turned to her in times of need. When I encountered difficulties in my attempts to both teach and be a mother to my children, Bobbie was one who of those who helped me more than most.  I think this was because I felt I could be completely open with her.  I wasted no time worrying about what she would think of me, but was able to pour out my heart to her.  She listened, she truly heard me, she sympathized from the depths of her own experience, and that I appreciated even more than her advice, which in and of itself proved to be quite useful.

I remember Bobbie's love for the performing arts, her joy in ballet, and her pride in the performances of her children.  I remember the warmth and laughter that she brought to our book club over many years, and I long to discuss a book with her once again.  Any book, it doesn't really matter which one.

Today I hug my children a little tighter.  I look at them and consider whether they truly know in their heart of hearts that they are deeply loved by me without any condition whatsoever.  If I were to die today, would I have communicated to their inner beings what is most important about our lives on this earth?  From what I know of Bobbie, I have no doubt that she accomplished this in the time she spent with her children.  In my incomplete view of things, though, that amount of time was not nearly long enough.  I can only commit her family to their heavenly Father, the true source of comfort, life, and love.   

The loss of Bobbie will be profoundly felt I am sure in all of the communities in which she participated. The words of Paul that we do not grieve as those who have no hope have come to mind several times through the past few days.  They are a comfort, but we still do grieve, and that very deeply.

 

 

 

Thoughts on Friendship, Grief, and Loss Across the Seas

Last night I stuck my head in a bedroom door to say goodnight to one of the children, and I discovered a tear-stained face, most unusual for this particular child.  I immediately knew the cause, however.  Just a couple of hours before we had said our good-byes to a German exchange student who has been part of our church family for the past twelve weeks.  Such a short period of time, and yet he had worked his way into the heart of our son.  Through his tears this child inquired of me, "Mom, if I find it this hard to say good-bye to someone I have known for just a few weeks, how will I ever manage when we move back home to North America?"

I have no easy answer for this question.  I could only offer sympathy and acknowledge to him that I think about this dilemma every single day of the week, try as I as hard as I will to block out such thoughts.  It will be as deep a grief as any we have ever known, and while I don't wish to begin the grieving process ahead of time, it seems nearly impossible at times to stop it.  I have even  thought the words in my own mind that it will be like a death, and so when a friend here used that exact phrase to explain her opinion that we are not meant to return just yet, I did not disagree with her.

Lately Ross and I have wrestled with the question of our return date.  Before we left, I assured our friends and family that we would be back within two years.  We are now more than one month past that point.  I assumed then I think that this overseas move would be similar to the first one, the move that took us to the U.K. eleven years ago.  During the entire period of our twenty month stay in England, I never wanted to do anything other than return to the U.S., in spite of the many fantastic experiences we enjoyed there and the friends that graciously made room in their lives for us. 

This move has been different.  We do deeply miss our family and friends back in North America. Nothing can replace them in our lives and hearts, nor would we wish them to be fully replaced.  Staying longer than our original intention seems akin to a betrayal of them of sorts, and yet we are not quite ready to leave Australia, in part because we know we will not likely be back except to visit.  Why we should feel so strongly about not wanting to leave I am not entirely sure.  I suspect that somewhat paradoxically it may be due to the very strength of the roots we had put down in Pittsburgh during the eight years we lived there.

Before Pittsburgh Ross and I moved so often that we really never felt completely settled anywhere. This made all that moving a bit easier.  Then along came four children, and the picture changed considerably.  Not only did we forge multiple connections in our neighbourhood, our church, at work, and in the local homeschooling community, our children made many friendships as well.  We relied on many different people throughout the week, and in turn felt needed by them.  When Ross dropped the Australia bombshell, there was no part of me that wanted to go along for the ride.

As you know, I did eventually experience a change of heart.  There were many reasons for this.  Loving Ross as I did, I wanted to see him fulfil a life-long desire.  I also thought this could be a unique bonding experience for our family, something that would strengthen the bonds of our children both to us, and to each other.  The Australia adventure would be not just a fantastic opportunity to see another part of the world, but would become part of the fabric of our lives as a family.

To make this happen, of course, required great loss. It meant saying good-bye to many, many people, and tearing ourselves away from our families and from the community that played such a big role in our lives.  Was this a selfish decision?  I have wrestled with this question on may occasions, and I cannot say with complete surety that it was not.  Certainly there were times when our thoughts were completely self-centered.  For example, I am sure we devoted many more hours to considering what the move would do to us, as opposed to how it would affect others.  We believed it to be best, however, and we forged ahead.

The enormity of this loss did not really hit home until we began the process of settling in down under.  Mixed in with the trips to Trampoline for gelato, Tim Tam slams, the visits to the wonderful bakeries, and all the fun sightseeing adventures, came the loneliness, a loneliness that deepened with each week.  There were more days than I care to remember that I could hardly summon the energy to get out of bed in the morning.  The children were affected as well.  I remember one particular moment when Cameron turned to me and remarked, "Mom, this is kind of fun and all, but what I want to do is go outside and play with Josh, or to have Zeff over to play Legos."  I felt a bit guilty, because we had worked really hard to get the children excited about this move, and had purposely not advertised to them the difficult parts with which we were at least partly familiar from having done this before.

I think in part because of what we had left behind, we felt driven to forge relationships that went below the surface, to do more in Australia than play the role of tourist and enjoy ourselves.  There was a hunger for more, a drive to connect deeply with others, and to become part of the fabric, the life, and the soul of a community.  We have not always succeeded in this goal, but where we have, we recognize that the privileges, the pleasures, and the joys of such connections will be extremely difficult to sever.  We do not look forward to that pain, but at the same time, we would not have it any other way. When, eventually, we look back on Australia, I have no doubt that the people we have met will figure far more prominently in our hearts and minds than the koalas, the kangaroos, and the marvels of the Great Barrier Reef. For now, our wish is for just a bit more time to spend with them this side of heaven.

On the Verge of Spring

As I start this post I can hear Katie practicing scales on her flute in preparation for an exam next week, Sophie playing away at the piano, and James listening to music on his computer reading program.  All we need is a double bass, at least according to Cameron, who is eagerly awaiting the delivery of the instrument that he has been longing to learn to play for the past eleven months.  That will be a post of its own I think when it does finally arrive tomorrow.

Yesterday marked the first official feel of spring in the air. We all noticed it at various times throughout the day, and were the happier for it.  It has been a true old-fashioned winter, we have been told.  An old-fashioned winter makes me think never-ending blizzards and ice storms, but in Melbourne of course it's a bit different.  Never-ending rain and icy winds are more like it, but all the same, we are ready to welcome warmer temperatures and more frequent sunshine.

Here you can see a typical winter landscape in Melbourne:

These blossoms are desperately trying to break through winter's prison, symbolized here by our fence:

The trees and bushes have shown signs of spring in spite of the persistently cold weather, and I have taken the odd picture from time to time to prove to myself that spring is in fact on the way.  The following few are all from a couple of azalea bushes in our front yard which I find somewhat ugly when viewed from afar.  They look much prettier when their leaves and blossoms are viewed through the macro lens I think.

The children have had a busy week at school thus far.  Monday marked the start of Book Week in Victoria, meaning the younger three had to dress as a favorite character from a book.  I always dread these sorts of weeks.  Devising costumes is not a strong suit of mine, and in fact, Cameron was so traumatized by how pitiful his was last year compared to his classmates' that he declined to dress up at all this year.  Instead he went as Rush Melendy from Then There Were Five.  Reliable Rush wears jeans and a t-shirt most of the time.  I had considered renting a costume for him, but then a notice came home from school saying that the school did not encourage the hiring of costumes, and that the best costumes were those the children made themselves.  Baloney in my opinion, but we didn't end up renting anything.

James insisted on dressing as a character from his favorite book, a Bible story book that Ross has been reading to him nearly every night for the past year.  They are on their second time through now.  He didn't mind which character exactly, so I chose Joseph thinking that would be one of the more well-known stories.  Fortunately I found a colorful striped dressing gown on sale at Target, and that, combined with a kitchen towel for his head, constituted his costume. I was told by another prep mom that during the costume parade he proudly said into the microphone in front of the entire school that he was "Joe, from the Bible."

I tried to take a better picture when he came home from school, but Joe wasn't in a cooperative mood.

Once the boys were sorted, I turned my attention to Sophie.  This was starting to feel like the dreaded build-up to Halloween costume season in the U.S., which I thought we had escaped by moving to Australia.  I started digging through her closet with very little hope of finding anything useful when I happened upon an American Girl nightgown that had been given to Katie several years ago.  It was a matching outfit to her doll Kirsten, and most happily, it not only fit Sophie, but we also had the American Girl book that showed pictures of Kirsten dressed in this nightgown.  

We even managed to include two hand-made items for Sophie's costume.  The first, and by far the best, was not something made by us, but rather a gift from a very special friend in Pittsburgh, a shawl.  I am not sure that the Kirsten of the early 1800s would have worn these exact colors, but I suspect she would have been wearing a hand-knitted shawl of some kind during those cold Minnesota winters after she emigrated from Sweden.  We also tried to make a Christmas wreath, something the eldest girl in Sweden wears on her head, but this was not so successful.  Katie did her bit by doing Sophie's hair this morning, with the following pretty result.

We are most grateful for this shawl today as the icy wind must be coming straight from the south pole. Spring is surely on its way, however.  I took this last picture yesterday to prove it.

 

 

 

Sophie Goes to Camp, by Sophie

I have been waiting for many, many years for my turn to go to camp.  My older siblings have been going for four years now, and I thought my turn would never come.  But finally, about two months ago, I received an invitation to attend JOYCE camp from a teacher at my school.  JOYCE stands for Joy in Christian Education.  It is a club that I attend every second Tuesday.  All girls who go every time it meets have the opportunity to attend this camp.  I was very, very excited the day that I brought the invitation home to my mum (I am trying very hard to remember to write "mum" instead of "mom" because my teacher keeps correcting me).

One of my closest friends at school also got to go on camp with me.  We spent lots of time talking about camp together.  She knew more about it than I did because her older sister has gone the last two years.  She helped me figure out what to pack in my suitcase.  It is still winter here, so I packed long pants and long-sleeved shirts and two or three jumpers.  I decided to bring old shoes in case they got muddy at camp.  

We left on a Wednesday after school.  Here is a picture of mum dropping me off at school that morning.  Every girl that was going on camp got to wear casual clothes to school instead of the regular uniform.  This is very unusual at my school.

The camp was located in a very scenic area of a nearby valley.  It took us an hour and a half on the bus but it felt like two hours because I was so excited.  When we arrived, we put our luggage in the meeting room.  It was decided that the girls who had been there before would show the new girls around the camp.  After the camp tour, my teacher Mrs. Juchno helped us choose our cabins.  I was in a cabin with two friends from my class, and we spent some time setting it up.    Our teacher told us we had the neatest cabin in the year 3/4 area.  Then we went to go have dinner.

I want to say something about dinner because the food at camp was amazing.  For the first meal we had homemade mashed potatoes,  We also had something like pizza but instead of dough on the bottom, it was chicken.  We also had peas and carrots.  For dessert that night we enjoyed chocolate mousse with whipped cream.  It was delicious.  Before every single meal, we sang a prayer song. 

When we had finished unpacking, we grabbed our torches and got into our groups for the night walk.  I was with the Christian Education teacher in charge of the whole camp, Mrs. Roe, and I asked her lots of questions.  This was no surprise to my mum when I told her.  We walked on a path with lots of trees, and it was very peaceful.  We had to stop sometimes to hear the rushing water from the creek, especially when we stood on a wobbly bridge.  It was very misty, and we saw a few animals, including a horse, a rabbit, and a bat.  We headed back, but got lost from the other groups because they had stopped for some reason.  After the walk, we had supper.  In Australia, supper is more like a bedtime snack.  It might be popcorn, chips, or biscuits.  Our first supper was a blueberry muffin.  

After supper we went back to the meeting room where my classroom teacher had organized some games.  We had to ask each other questions like "Do you have a brother?" or "Do you like chocolate or not?"  Then it was time to get ready for bed.  There were four bunks in our cabin, making eight beds, but only three people, so we had an extra bunk.  The funny thing about our cabin was that in the middle of it there was a sink with nothing else. In the next picture, I am taking the photo while standing on my bunk.

When we got ready for bed it was really nice because we could brush our teeth in our cabin.  After hopping into bed, we were allowed to talk for only five minutes because it was quite late. It took me a little while to go to sleep because outisde it was really howly.  The rain was loud on the tin roof.

The next morning we were allowed to get up at 7 o'clock.  Around 7:20am, I took my camera outside to take some photos of the scenery.

This is a picture of the cabins we stayed in at camp.  

For breakfast I ate a banana, cereal, and Uncle Toby's oatmeal.  Uncle Toby's is a brand name like Kellogs. The oatmeal was nice and warm.

We started our activities after breakfast.  I couldn't take my camera with me because we were going on a flying fox (i.e. a zipline) and canoeing.  The flying fox was very high up, and it sent us flying over a lake.  At the end of it, we stopped with a jerk. It was very fun because we went over top of girls who were canoeing.  The flying fox was powered by a bike, so we had to take turns riding the bike to bring the harness back up.

After that was morning tea.  Then there was free time for things like talking in cabins and jumping on the trampolines.

The trampolines were really cool because they were dug into the ground, and you could see underneath them.  They were pretty bouncy. 

After free time, I had my turn to try canoeing.  This is the best part of the post I think. I got to go with a grade five girl who was really funny. Our guide did not help us very much, but instead was just relaxing in his canoe.  Meanwhile my partner and I got stuck in the weeds and the mud.  We had to rescue ourselves without any help.  We kept flicking each other with the paddles and we eventually got very wet.  A couple of grade sixes came close to us, and they asked the guide to splash them.  He gave them a few splashes but then suddenly he took his paddle and made a huge splash and completely soaked them.

After canoeing, we headed to our next activity.  It was a tightrope obstacle course headed by Madam Chirlio, our French teacher.  I was in a group this time with the grade sixes who got splashed.  They let me go first.  The goal of the course was to complete it without touching the ground.  It got harder as you went along.  When you touched the ground you had to let onother person in your group have a turn. There was one girl in our group who finished the whole course and nobody else did out of all the groups! Once I completely fell off, but my teammates caught me and prevented me from touching the ground.  

After the obstacle course it was time for lunch, followed by the fourth activity.  For this one, my group and I made damper in an outdoor fire.  Damper is a kind of bread made and eaten in the Australian outback because the ingredients are very easy to carry.  We mixed flour with water, shaped the dough into a log, wrapped it in tin foil, and popped it straight into the fire.  When we took it out, we smothered it in butter before eating it.  It was scrumdiddlyumptious. 

The next event was afternoon tea, a homemade M & M cookie, followed by Bible time.  Our teacher gave us each a little notebook to keep.  In it we wrote down our daily schedule, including the times that we pray, read the Bible, and go to church. We also made a photo frame, and in it we put a card that our teacher gave to us.  

I was on duty group for dinner that night, so I had to go early to help set the tables.  The camp staff served us homemade sausage rolls that were made that mornings along with vegetables.  For dessert we got to make ice cream sundaes.  I put heaps of sprinkles on mine.  Then I had to help clean up, which was a big job.

After dinner we learnt a dance, and then it was time for supper. We had hot jam donuts.  Yum.  It seems like we were always eating.  A camp fire followed supper.  Each year level got to take turns throwing sticks into the fire.  I slept really well that night.

The next day was our last day at camp.  After breakfast, we learned about the book of Ruth.  Our teacher had made a special book for each one of us with pictures, information about the time in which Ruth lived, and the story itself.  After lunch a nearby camp called ADANAC (that is Canada backwards) organized games for us.  We played dodge ball and another game where we stood in a pit and tried to keep the ball from hitting our feet.  For dodge ball my team had to verse the leader.  He won the first time, and we won the second time.

After game time, we had to bring our suitcases to the meeting room, and then we ate lunch. All too soon it was time to board the bus.  Camp was even more fun that I thought it would be.  It went by way too fast, but I am so happy that I got to go to camp for my first time.  The last picture is one that my mum took when she came to pick me up.  I am standing with my Christian Ed teacher, Mrs. Roe, who is one of the nicest teachers in our school.  I can't wait to go again next year.

Quote of the Day

Last night around the dinner table, Ross asked his twelve-year-old son to share what he had learned in school that day. Cameron quickly set his father straight: "Dad, we don't actually learn anything new at school.  We spend all day honing our skills."  

Here is the author of the somewhat troubling quotation, after an afternoon spent honing his skills at footy (Australian Rules Football).  

At least on Friday afternoons throughout the winter, Cameron has been learning something new at school, namely, how to play this game that is incredibly popular in Melbourne.  I am fairly certain that James is the only boy in his prep class not enrolled in the five-year-old version called "Oz Kick" held on Saturday mornings.

I had been promising Cameron for many weeks that I would come along one Friday to see him play, and so last Friday I did.  When I turned up, Cameron was "in the ruck," or, the player jumping up to try to hit the ball toward his teammates.  That is about as much as I understand of footy, in spite of my attempts to educate myself two years ago.  

I walked around the permieter of the surprisingly large field for the remainder of the game, occasionally stopping to take a photo from far away.  

One good thing about this game is that it involves lots of running.  It also seems to involve lots of mud, reminding me of spring soccer in North America.

Son, we are happy for you that you have enjoyed this experience of learning to play another Australian sport.  We do, however, hope it is not the only new thing you have learned at school this term.  

With love, your mum and dad.

 

 

On Mates, Cuppas, and Lucking Out

In this post, I share recent photos with you from my favorite tree in our garden, as well as the latest bits and pieces of I have recorded on the fascinating topic of language differences.

A couple of weeks ago I was sitting in a hair salon when I overheard a conversation between my stylist, his colleague, and a client of theirs.  I am fairly certain I would not have understood most of this conversation two years ago as the accents were thick, and the majority of the words were truncated after a twisted vowel sound in that special way that Australians have mastered.  What I noticed at the time, however, was the stereotypical use of the word mate at the end of nearly every phrase. It was employed at least eight times in the space of less than a minute. I thought at the time that I could be witnessing a well-rehearsed scene from a skit that was intended to spoof the Aussie accent.  It sounded almost comical to me, and yet, it was genuine, and I am certain unreflexive on their part.  Here is my best effort at recording what I heard (and truly, you need to hear the accent to really appreciate the exchange):

Stylist 1:  "How are ya, mate?"

Client: "Doing well mate."

Stylist 2:  "Are you still at home, mate, or have you started traveling again?" 

Client:  "I'm still at home living the good life, mate.  I'll have to go back to work eventually but I'm enjoying the break."

Stylist 1:  "That's great, mate.  Isn't your wife getting tired of having you around all day?"

Client:  "No, it's surprising, mate, but she likes have me around.  So do the kids."

Stylist 2:  "What a great life.  Enjoy it while you can, mate."

Client:  "Thanks, mate. I will, mate."

I copied this question from a status update of an Australian facebook friend:

Can you get headaches from too many cakes, bickies, slices and cuppa teas? 

In case you are curious, cake is extremely popular in Australia, bickies is short for biscuits, known in America as cookies, and slices refers to something closely equivalent to bars or quick breads---something sweet that can be sliced into squares or pieces of some sort and consumed alongside a good cuppa.

Speaking of food, here's a phrase I heard in a children's talk at church on Sunday morning:

"I don't know about you, but I often get peckish about this time of day.  So this morning I have with me a box of chocolates just in case the elevenses hit."

Last Thursday night, during a dinner with a group of accountants and their clients, R and I met an Australian couple who had just spent twelve years living in the United States, including a two-year stint in Philadelphia.  We had a fascinating discussion with them analyzing all of the differences and similarities, particularly in education and language.  They pointed out to our table that while pronunciation differences can be incredibly annoying and cause frequent misunderstandings, it is words that have the opposite meaning that can create the most confusion.  They then provided three examples that I don't believe I have mentioned before in this blog:

1.  to table an issue:  in Australia this means to place it on the table ready for discussion whereas in the U.S. it means to remove it from the table--i.e.  to stop discussing it for the meantime.  This difference can be troublesome in a corporate setting.

2.  lucked out:  This is a positive thing in the U.S., a negative thing in Australia.  Down under you are out of luck if you have lucked out, whereas in North America, it would make perfect sense to use this phrase after winning the lottery.

2.  momentarily:  In Australia this means for a very brief period of time whereas in the U.S. it refers to something that will happen in the near future.  Consider the following real-life example of a notice in an office:

When leaving after dark, if you notice criminal activity outside of the office building, please call security who will be with you momentarily.

This notice would not be particularly reassuring to an Aussie, we were told.  It brings to mind an officer arriving on the scene and then vanishing immediately.

That's all for this time around.  Thanks for reading, mate.

Winter Afternoon Excursion

The weather this weekend has left us in no doubt whatsoever that we are still well within Melbourne's winter season.  The sun has teased us briefly, but in general the skies have been gray, the wind has been cold, and the sporadic downpours have chased us back indoors at every turn.  Last Sunday, by contrast, was absolutely perfect, and we celebrated by taking a drive with the younger two children to a favorite local spot, Brighton Beach.  Predictably the children kicked and screamed at the prospect.  You would have thought we were asking them to walk fifteen kilometres rather than ride for fifteen minutes in the car.  Once we hit the sand, however, there were smiles all around.

I just had to capture these freckles before they fade away again.

James had no interest in posing until he realized that his sister was getting more than her fair share of the attention. 

There were several cormorants out and about along the path we took.

We also saw a flock of Australian pelicans overhead, a first for us at Brighton Beach.

The other day I perused the blogs of several American expats living in Melbourne and found lots of complaints about the damp, gray winter weather. It appears we aren't the only ones who assumed that the entire continent of Australia would be warm and sunny all year long. On a day like this one, however, there is nothing at all about which to complain.