Family, Meet Family

When I got back from Germany and Ireland, it was a little bit of a whirlwind. Work went nuts, personal life got cray. [Excuses, excuses]. I don’t think I took a moment to revel in both what an amazing experience the whole thing was…or what some of it truly meant.

As I wrote a while back, I had one heck of a family take me in when I landed as a solo traveler in the summer of 2004. Seriously, words cannot express the way they opened their homes and their hearts. That summer held a lot of growth for me, and they put up with all of it.

Fast forward 10 years: my parents have heard stories. I’ve kept in touch with my second family. I’ve watched the kiddos grow through pictures. I got to spend some time with them while they vacationed in California a few years ago. But my parents had never met these strangers who took their daughter in. So when we started to talk about a European vacation, I knew that if we were headed that direction, it had to involve a meet and greet between my two families.

Family, please meet family.

I was so worried before the trip…would they get along? Would they have anything to talk about? Would everyone feel comfortable? It was my parents first trip to Europe, would they be okay? Would the language barriers bother them?

Silly, silly me.

I will never forget the moment that we stepped out of customs, and my entire second family stood there with yellow roses in their hands and open arms. My host mom’s beautiful smile and tears that stood in the corner of her eyes. My host dad’s familiar laughter. And the “children” who were now teenagers and nearly eye-to-eye with me [how do they grow that fast?!?].

We had four days in Germany, and my second family went above and beyond. They had a whole itinerary thoughtfully planned out. They took my parents through the town they lived in. I got to show my parents spots that I had sat out or grabbed a bite to eat, trails I had run, and the bedroom I stayed in. They made reservations at a beautiful castle, and showed them all the sites.

And while re-visiting some of my favorite spots was beyond wonderful, some of the best moments were just sitting around the breakfast or dinner table, enjoying each other’s company.

Within hours, the guys were talking politics, the ladies laughing over life observations and challenges, and we already had inside jokes that carried throughout our visit. We cheers-ed  over ouzo, gorged on bread, beer and black licorice, bonded over stories of life’s difficulties, and compared notes on cultural differences. My host mom’s familiar “alles, klar?” when I got quiet. The noise in the family room in the morning as everyone got ready. The smell of fresh bread and sound of water “with gas” being poured. All reminders and feelings of coming home, 5,000 miles away from home.

And being able to finally share it all with my parents…words fail me.

As I sat at dinner one night, I looked around and was overwhelmed with gratitude. This family didn’t have to do any of this for me, or my parents. They once again opened their home and their hearts to a few strangers. In that moment, I realized I wanted to do the same. The children are learning English [and speak beautifully, I might add]. My goal is to have a place with enough space that they can visit and stay awhile. Share in the laughs and sites, culture and conversation.

And hopefully feel right at home… with family.

Achieving the Impossible.

Yesterday, I folded a fitted sheet nearly perfectly. I don’t know how I did it, in order to repeat this feat. But it was quite the site to behold and I feel like perhaps, just maybe, I might be that much closer to being a true grown-up now.

Get Over Yourself, Part 1

We all have a bad day or a bad week now and then. This? Was one of those weeks for me. On top of forgetting my glasses Monday, I managed to forget another very important item today that is creating a bit of a logistical snafu and I don’t have a way to get home. At work, it’s been a “if-one-more-things-goes-wrong-I’m-going-to-hide-under-my-desk-for-the-remainder-of-the-day” type of weeks. I had a credit card stolen in the mail, along with several other items my mom sent. Then there was an ex-boyfriend situation. Needless to say, I’d about had it. [up.to.here.] 

And in one moment, all of it disappeared. One of my closest, dearest friends sent me a gChat: 

“We found out genders today!” 

Yes, genders. As in plural. As in three. As in she is pregnant with triplets. 

Within seconds, everything inside me just melted. I’ve known she was pregnant with triplets for some time. But it still makes me so happy and excited every time I think about it. I will literally be in the middle of a crowd, or at a dinner, and smile to myself because I’m so giddy for them. 

And then she said “two boys and a girl <3” 

In those two seconds, I realized that there are so many amazing miracles happening all around me. And it’s damn time to get over myself and remember that. 

So here’s to getting over myself and making today awesome. I say “Part 1” because I’ll probably forget this lesson at some point the next time things get frustrating. Someone feel free to smack me upside the head and remind me how good things really are. You have my permission.