Mon Aventure

It was a sunny morning this week as I drove through the rolling, green hills of South Western Virginia, marveling over how blessed I am.  I left my husband's family with promises to call as soon as I safely reached the big highway with cell phone range, also juggling calls to my first family to satisfy their eagerness with an estimated arrival time.  I wonder how many people can say they have not only one large group of people who love them, pray over them, worry over them and eagerly await their visits, but two large groups filled with just such people.  As I contemplated this while rolling over the beautiful hills of my home state, I was filled with a gratitude so full and warm, it was unlike anything I've ever felt before.

Come to think of it, gratitude seems to be a theme with me lately.  Four weeks ago I walked through each room of our empty flat in Switzerland and was filled with a similar awe.  The movers had come and gone and I followed behind with a mop and broom, bringing the wood floor to a sparkle.  The only thing remaining was to walk out the door and hand over the key.  It was a busy time and there was much to do, but as I headed for the door I felt something tugging me to stay just another minute, to walk through each room and give thanks for the time we spent there.  Every place I've lived, I've felt the tug of this five or ten minute ritual.  The sensation is overwhelming.  Five or ten minutes never feels like enough time and my words always seem inadequate.  I trust my heart makes up for whatever my words lack.

The following picture is what our furniture looked like before it was loaded into the container to be shipped across the ocean.  They wrap EVERYTHING, even the largest pieces, up like gifts in wrapping paper.

As I write this, four weeks later, these items are arriving at the port in Miami to clear customs.

Finally shutting the door, I walked across the street, dragging my two huge suitcases behind me, headed to La Cour des Augustins, our hotel, our home away from home when in Geneva.  Allowing myself, for the first time in days, to realize that I was actually bone weary, I was ever so grateful for the cool, white, relaxing room awaiting me.






Now it was time for Chris and I to rest, tend to last minute moving details and await our flight to Guam, where we would visit Chris’ brother’s family and learn to Scuba Dive.


The following photos are of our time in Guam…

























 
We had the time of our lives in Guam with Chris' brother's family.  But after two and a half weeks, it was time to continue our journey of moving back to the U.S.

We left Guam, returned to Switzerland to collect Bear, flew to D.C., bought a car and drove to Roanoke to spend a few days with Chris parents and to collect Tigger who has spent the last year and a half with Chris’ parents while we were in Switzerland.


So far, our return to the United States is everything we expected it to be… a comfortable sigh of relief.

As I write to you, I’m wearing beach clothes, sitting in the breeze under Grandma’s cottage in Nags Head, North Carolina. My dogs are at my feet and Chris is back in Switzerland on one of many business trips.


In two or three weeks, we’ll both head for Florida to settle in.