Visits

Note to reader: We have just completed a month's worth of visits- both sets of parents and my sister spent time with us this past month. It was wonderful to have them and hard to see them go.

“We’re coming”

Anticipation and anxiety all at once well up inside me as I grasp what it means to have visitors on the way. Thoughts flash through my mind- I want to share with them all that I have experienced since we have been together, share my world and my home and my life. And once the realization sinks in, the motivation that was asleep inside of me stirs and takes on new life – there is so much to do!

In what seems like endless frenzy, we prepare for the upcoming visitors. I make list upon list, readjusting and rethinking. What would be perfect? What would be possible? What can I live with? We start with big, impactful, messy projects…where we can barely walk through the house and we eat nothing but leftovers because we don’t have time to cook. And then reality sets in that we cannot always eat leftovers or sometime soon we will have no food left- over. So we jump in on smaller projects- cleaning up the mess from before and prioritizing what’s left to do (a never-ending list of possibilities).

We spend sleepless nights finishing before they come. The anticipation of their arrival is overtaken by a momentary anxiety. What have I forgotten? What if a million bugs come or we have no water? What if we can’t get along in one house for a week without a television? Maybe we should buy a television…

And thankfully, they call, just to say “Hi” and I remember how very much I miss them and can imagine that they miss us too. I am once again assured things will go just fine.

In the evenings, we start to plan meals and fun things to do for our guests. We dream together of long talks and card games. Of bonfires and good dinners. We talk about how much has changed and how big Ryan is getting. I can’t wait for them to just BE here.

They arrive – through hugs and hello’s we are reminded of just how much we have missed them. I am thankful they are here and yet another part of me aches, makes me homesick for them all over again, even as our visit is just beginning. Days of jockeying and settling go on as we each figure out our new roles. How to survive in one house (without a TV) together. And finally we set a silent, understood routine- and I begin to wonder how I will survive without them here to play with Ryan and help with dinner. How we will find things to talk about without four days to rehash.

We laugh together and work. They work too hard and I wish they would stop and enjoy- they wish I would let them work a bit harder (I am blessed with helpful family and friends).We catch up. I am reminded of how life continues even when I am not there. People grow and change. We talk about each other- the lives we are leading. I learn new things about them and am intrigued by the changes in their lives. We talk like no time has passed at all, really. They spend time playing with Ryan and he delights in having new playmates. He gets to be carried and held and is pampered with more treats than usual. We don’t fit in as much activity as we had wanted, but we enjoy the things we can get to.

And before they leave, I start to feel lonely for them all over again. Homesickness sets in and I am melancholy- I chide myself-they aren’t even gone! I begin to think of others at home I miss, too, and I dream of curling up very small and stowing away in their luggage. Hurriedly I bring to mind people here, friends and family that I do have close by. It quells some of the pain but also makes me feel torn. Home in both places. Homesick for both places. But the sadness that comes from such confusion is strangely comforting. I have come to love the feeling of deep longing- it makes me feel loved and blessed- I have people to miss and long for! It makes me feel alive in a way I can’t really explain, even though it hurts.

And then they leave. We lament about how we worked too hard; we should have spent more time talking and enjoying. And then we turn back to the house, thankful for the accomplishments we’ve made. Inside, the house echo’s with intense quiet. It’s so loud I can barely stand it. And I miss them all over again – how did we manage before we had everyone here? How did I ever get anything done? Suddenly it seems like the miles stretched between us have somehow gotten longer. I call them on their cell phone, just to remind myself that they aren’t really that far away.

Its a few days before I’m able to return to my previous routine. Before I can stand the quiet I had come to appreciate. I work hard to keep the motivation alive, but it waxes and wanes without a goal. So, I talk myself into dreaming up new goals. At dinner, the conversation still holds and we slowly settle back in to our own rhythm. During our talks, we discuss the next visit – what we would do and how fun it would be, and our loneliness is salved with such anticipation. We laugh, remembering the funny things that happened and the cute things Ryan did. We tear up as we look at pictures we took and read the entries written in our “guestbook”. We think of ways to span the miles- phones and letters, small gifts and pictures, visits! I am reminded that even though we are miles apart we don’t have to be distant, and I am inspired once again to forge on, to build our lives – here and there.

When are you coming again?