Part 3 Welcome Home. My flesh screams, hanging onto my airplane seat’s armrests. I refuse to move. This is my anniversary. This is our planned TRIP. We are not moving. I do not want to stay. I would live in France if I had to, but guess what? I don’t have to. We are traveling, that’s it. No more, no less. I sit there, stunned. Unable to move or comprehend what I’m about to see/smell/witness in this country, I have never planned to go to Holland.
What I Envision Versus Reality
The plane’s door opened, and we grabbed our luggage. This was the luggage that was packed for a France trip. We got off the plane. My first thought is the drabness of the airport—the busyness of it. I felt like I needed to wash my hands because so many people were touching me. They were all speaking in different languages. I watched their mouths move, trying to read lips or get a nugget of information, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t understand any person or sign. There was also not a single person who spoke English. I felt trapped in this foreign country. There was nowhere, no one to guide me, no vehicle, no home, no food, nothing.
I picture us grabbing our stuff and trying to find our way out of that blasted, loud, big, busy airport. There was a moment when I needed air. Sadly, I was overstimulated by the news and anxious because this was entirely out of our control. Air, I needed to breathe fresh air and take a moment to regroup. I was thrown into something that was not of my doing. There were two choices: I could curl up in a ball and sob or find a way through the fear and uncertainty.
Ray of Sunshine
As I processed this news, I felt a ray of sunshine hit my face. I felt a cool breeze as we walked outside. In one moment, I opened my eyes, and from as far as the east was from the west, there were tulips. I love tulips. Honestly, I love their beauty, the array of colors, and the smells. Tulips come up every single year without fail. Far off, in the distance, I saw windmills. The most gorgeous background I have ever seen in my life.
Absorbing my Surroundings
As we walk around, absorbing our surroundings, we think about Paris and what we will miss. The art, the food, the atmosphere, all of our plans, all the cool things we would see, yet we had to mourn that because we knew we were “stuck” in Holland. Don’t get me wrong; Holland is phenomenally gorgeous. It is just where I wanted to be. I don’t mind a visit, but why must we live there. We had to mourn not seeing our family, our home, American food, and the freedoms we had in America. There was just a lot to process.
Once our mourning was over, we settled into this new life, this new place with all these new sites, foods, noises, and smells. We began to acclimate to our surroundings, and we began to learn about the cultures and the foods.
Holland and Its Beauty
Holland has its beauty, but it was not what we had initially planned. We had to learn to adapt and compensate for what we wanted to see in Paris and what we wanted from home. It wasn’t bad, just different. It was a change, and I’m not one to like change.
I had to learn that I could not “fix” my children…only God could and will do that. I had to learn to let go of control and begin to love what is. By mourning the loss of what was going to be a 10-day vacation to Paris, I was losing out on what was surrounding me.
Seeing Things from a Different Perspective
With new colors, new foods, and new scenery, I began to love my new home, and I began to change by loving it. Ironically, I began seeking God more and seeking help for my depression. Also, I learned that FASD, RAD, Single-Sided Deafness, and Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome do not define my children. Finally, I learned how to love again and my God, my husband, and my children for who they were, not what I “envisioned” them.
Be open to change. Be open to new things. Stop trying to fix things. Stop trying to control what you are not meant to control.
Live life and love without abandon.