Live YOUR Best Life

My Hearts Exposed

So much has transpired in the last year and a half it is difficult to know where to begin.  So, how about a short recap for those keeping score:

*  Bus is no longer allowed full time in Canada.  Since it was "altered from original factory specs" it is not importable and, thus,  not insurable in Canada.  Therefore, it is hanging out with some pretty awesome vehicle hybrids in Seattle awaiting a sale to the right family who will love her.  Unless we return to the States...

*  Our son is still fighting a 24/7 migraine since his "treatment" for Lyme's disease over a year ago.  We search endlessly for relief for him, though, luckily most of the body aches and neuralgia has minimized and he no longer gets carried.  He is miserable and amazing about his head pain.  Life is hard (difficult to blog when one is feeling more hopeless and negative than previous; thus, the gap in blog posts).  Life is also hard for his sisters, having to live with such a continued burden hanging over them as well.  But we try to live our best life, moving from moment to moment and, when it gets really hard, soldier on.
What else can be done?

*  Our 4th homeschooling season approaches in a few weeks.  We are excited, grateful and full of a mix of joyful curiosity and trepidation as to what this year will bring.  This will require a full blog, I am sure.

*  My dad with Alzheimer's is now in a nursing facility.  This is raw and ripe and not quite ready to be touched by me.  I miss him everyday in a way I didn't understand I could while he was at home.

*  We secretly plot our

NEXT 
GRAND 
ADVENTURE!

No hints yet.  But feel free to make guesses or add comments on what/where/how this adventure should take shape ;)
THINK..........BIG!!

*  We travelled back to NY (and back in time) for the summer and spent oodles of hours soaking up the family and friends we have missed for two long years.

*  AND, lastly, we started on our NEW FOOD ADVENTURE (while we plan our big secret adventure ;)  This food adventure is mostly an elimination diet and an attempt to eat cleaner and see what foods are affecting us in our bodies, our pain, and our minds.

SOOOOOOO, WHAT ARE WE EATING?!?!?!

Well, it's week 3 right now and some of the things in this pic we are eating, and some not.  I, myself, have not eaten a grasshopper (that I know of), but there has been some cricket eating by the
youngers:)

Things that ROCK about this diet/eating plan:

*  Kids eating foods they would begrudgingly, or NOT EVEN, eat prior to diet
*  They are NOT CONSTANTLY begging for SUGAR - especially since it's summer when someone is eating ice cream on every corner.
*  I, myself, am not craving anything at all
*  We are not guilty at all about what or how much I/we eat
*  Increased appreciation by me AND the kids for the food we have (super grateful)
*  Some (minimal) weight loss - not the point, but still nice
*  Trying new foods (son asking to try fish heads, tongue and beef hearts (blah!!)

*  Sooooooo muuuuucccchhhhh lessss garbage, food waste and recycling it is RIDICULOUS!!!!  Little-to-no packaging.
*  Eat less and not as pre-occupied with food.
*  Becoming resourceful about where and how to get food (ie: picking people's unwanted fruit, eating edible yard weeds, growing more food, etc)
*  Kids proud of themselves for doing something hard

Things that SUCK about this eating plan:

*  When you hangry, you HANGRY!!!!! (Crabby chillens)
*  Eat more and pre-occupied with food (yes, both.  It changes back and forth)
*  No fast solutions, no convenience eating
*  Took me days to wrap my brain around how to cook for us and meal planning and shopping for food without preservatives (hence rots faster) is exhausting
*  Kids not always on board and super frustrated (though, honestly, I let the 6 yo slide since she doesn't need it.  Just keeping her off junk)
*  Food is comfort (which sucks when you self-medicate with food to avoid pain and then have to face pain!)
*  Food is social

 That last one is really hard.  I think it explains why so many families with food issues end up home schooling (or I have often found anyways).  It is hard to go to a social event when everyone is eating things you cannot - especially when there are children involved.  My 13 yo has lived with this fact most of her life as a celiac.  And even the 6 yo decided on her own not to go to a birthday party if she had to see other kids eat cake.  Its a hard decision and I am amazed she had the awareness at 6 for something that took me at least 20 years to figure out.  Every social event - holidays, dates, birthdays, celebrations, etc. center around food.  So if you avoid them all, you become quite lonely.



Also, I think there is a stigma sometimes when you don't eat what everyone else eats.  You are the weird one, the crazy one, the overly-dramatic or hypochondriac one.  People can displace their own feelings or insecurities about food onto what you are doing with your food.  It's as if you are trying to make them feel badly about their food choices or something.  When, really, you are just trying to figure out what does or does not work for you.  I promise you...if I could eat chocolate and drink wine 24/7 I would.  And here's to you if you can!!!


So this is where we live right now.  Not heaven, but also not the lowest rungs of hell.  Pain drove us to the ocean today - not a bad place to work it out.

When we got home we planted some winter kale, the 6 yo picked purslane and chard to eat with her potatoes for breakfast, my son scarfed down two giant helpings of salmon before desperately escaping into media, and my 13 yo screamed at the sight of the fish skin and ate salad for dinner.
We all do what we can.  I'm finally understanding that.

Anyhow, thanks for reading.  Til next time...keep calm and VON ROWDY on!!!!!

Everything Comes in Waves

There is a reason humans are drawn to the ocean.  Not only is the vastness of it awe-inspiring and gives perspective to our egos, but there is a rhythm that we find soothing and to which we can relate.  Everything comes in waves, from the changes of the weather and seasons, to the rhythms of the human body and our lives.

Our family's life ebbs and flows like everyone else's, but for the last countless months it feels like we’ve ebbed more than we’ve flowed.  For example, tonight two of our children played a game they called “lumbar puncture”.  I watched them play a similar game many years ago when they re-enacted the birth of a child in an effort to understand and internalize the process for themselves.  This time I found it much less humourous.

In July of last year, as most of you know, we travelled home to NY for the first visit since we had left.  We all missed the place and the people we called “home” and were thrilled to bathe in the familiarity and chaos of it all.  While we were there, we also experienced the things about NY we didn’t love…the poison ivy (it didn’t take long), the humidity and, of course, the ticks.  We are no strangers to ticks and when the kids returned from the woods repeatedly with anywhere from 1 to 10 ticks on them each, I didn’t even batt an eyelash.  I removed them, as always, bathed the children to catch and remove any stragglers, washed the clothes and went on, business as usual.  However, our son had one tick that latched on inside his ear crease and I didn’t catch it until the next morning.  I removed the tick and reassured myself that it was not on for a full 24 hours (probably closer to 14 - 16 hours) so it wouldn’t be a problem.

The bite continued to bother him.  It was red, but I could not see a real bulls eye, so we put cream on it and left it at that.  Approximately 7 to 10 days later he complained of an extremely stiff neck.  He couldn’t turn his head to the side where the tick had been and his gland on that side was swollen and hot.  He felt crappy so I immediately took him into the local clinic to be tested.  There the doctor was unfazed.  While I laid out my concern, she countered with skepticism - saying that he didn’t seem sick or suffering.  He was not feverish, did not have a bulls eye and the tick hadn’t been on long enough.  I insisted that he be tested and she relented, though not before making it clear that she felt it was unnecessary.  The tests came back negative and I was talked into him having “slept in an awkward position or something”.

I knew she was wrong.  I knew from the second he told me he had a stiff neck.  So why did I back down when an authority figure in a white coat fed me what I knew to be untrue?  I guess I wanted him to have slept wrong.  It was easier than coming head to head with the medical system.  And reality.

I have also had Lyme’s, very briefly (if that is even possible).  I had gotten bitten once on my thigh when I was pregnant with Tiny.  I found it and removed it.  The bite itched and was red and swollen and inflamed, though I am unsure if it was ever a bulls eye.  I also thought nothing of it at first.  Then, one day, I woke up and the gland in my groin near the bite was hot and painful.  I immediately knew what was happening.  I have to admit, I found it fascinating.  I could feel a wave of pain spread across my body like a ripple; like a storm moving in and settling on the land.  I have never felt any sickness like it in my life.  A shock wave of electric spirochetes advancing without restriction.  I immediately took antibiotics and have not felt the waves like that since.  

Over the next three months or so following our visit to NY last summer, our son started to have issues.  At first they were easy to dismiss.  A headache here.  A sore knee there.  He had joined Jiu Jitzu with his older sister and began acting out in class.  I got frustrated and angry with him.  What was going on?  How dare he behave like this?  He removed himself from class, saying he didn’t feel good.  My cynical, authority-figure adult side decided it seemed like a tactic to avoid working hard, so I countered with commitment.  “You’ve committed to this, so you need to stick it out until the end of the session”.  He agreed to go, but not participate.  I allowed him to watch on the side, realizing that his persistence was a clear indication that something was wrong.  I later realized he just didn’t have the words to describe what was happening.  Eventually, he was able to articulate that the pounding on the mats hurt his brain and his body.  He began complaining about how roughly other kids played with him, how much his body was hurting and, eventually, had an episode where he could not use his leg at all as it was so painful to him.

At this point I brought him to his doctor (October), explaining what had happened in July and what was going on now.  She said she could see nothing wrong with his leg.  She attributed it to growing pains.  I insisted that there was something else going on, if not Lyme's than something neurological as all his symptoms seem to move up and down the spine.  She said she would order some blood work, but did not yet think a Lyme’s test was warranted.  I said I would have his teeth and eyes and anything else checked in the meantime that should be ruled out neurologically.  She said to bring him back when he was actually experiencing the leg pain.

Over the next few months the episodes became more pronounced, though still really sporadic.  Some days he could not walk well, some days I had to tie his arm(s) to his chest because it was too painful for him to support it (them).  But many days he seemed absolutely fine.  When I tried to bring him to the doctor’s office to show his aches, there was either no room in the schedule for us, the doctor was not in or we were elsewhere in Vancouver unable to get back to the office until things had passed again.  Meanwhile, I had made appointments for him to see anyone who was available and may have a clue for us.  He saw the dentist, the eye doctor, a cranial sacral practitioner, a chiropractor and, when he got worse once again and his doctor was on vacation and not available, we went to see a naturopath.  Most of these practitioners could see that there was something very wrong happening, but continued to point us back to the general practitioner to get the tests he needed.  So, finally, we returned to her once more.  

I was working that day and sent my husband to the office with a full page detailed note (OCD much?) of all the things we had done to find answers and all the issues he had been facing since seeing her in October.  I told her we had seen a naturopath in her absence and gave her the list of blood work he requested us to have checked.  Apparently, medical doctors frequently take this foray into “fake science” personally.  We were told that naturopaths always want to do a lot of unnecessary tests and that she would choose some repeat blood work, but that it was probably just growing pains and a nervous stomach.

I was furious.  Furious may not be a strong enough word.  Frantic is another word that also comes to mind.  There are so very many emotions one goes through when their child is sick.  And most of them have nothing to do with the child, unfortunately.  We take so many things in parenting personally, particularly when it grows intertwined with identity like a vine around a tree trunk, cutting into the bark and choking the tree.  What kind of a mother am I?  Why didn’t I do more?  Why is she doing this to us?  What does this mean for him?  Too much mental meandering without actually just being there in that moment and dealing with the issue at hand.  This realization didn’t come until the spinal tap.  (It is amazing how all thoughts are driven from your mind and you become absolutely numb when someone uses the words “lumbar puncture” in the same sentence as your child’s name.  But I am getting ahead of myself.)

After about a 5 day stretch of children’s tylenol twice a day to quell a headache that wouldn’t go away, a friend of mine suggested just walking him into Children’s Hospital in Vancouver.  This proved to be two steps forward and one step back.  They agreed there was something going on, but because he had no fever and wasn’t bleeding out of his eyeballs they could do no more for us than to give us a referral to an Infectious Disease doctor in Vancouver…an appointment that would take another two weeks to get.  

Meanwhile, this kid was an absolute trooper.  By this time he refused all painkillers because they no longer had any effect on him and actually made him feel worse.  He had days when it seemed like nothing was wrong (“Look, Mom!!!  I am soooo great on this pogo stick!!!”) to days/nights when he begged me to take him back to the hospital.  Nights when I held him up in a warm shower because it is all I could offer him and he couldn't stand on his own two feet.

Since then, he has finally been diagnosed with Lyme's Disease.  He had a spinal tap two weeks ago to see if it went into his spinal column (which they concluded, luckily, that it has not) and he is on doxycycline.  They told us that it would get worse before it gets better while the bacteria die off and create toxins.  This they did not lie about and that is where we live currently - with a nine year old boy that walks like a 90 year old man, or that gets carried around like an infant, crawls on his knees when he cannot stand and then sees his friends and runs to be with them, laughing and playing only to be in the bathroom in 20 minutes vomiting or sitting in a quiet ball on the floor minutes later.  He has constant headaches that cause him to shy away from noise and light one minute, and run around frenetically the next, like a dog trying to shake off an earache.  We await a “return to normal” for him.  I am hoping that it is not too much to ask, though the people with Lyme's I know are less encouraging in that direction.

However, he did turn a corner today, making it seem like the medication is starting to work (or the electro-magnetic frequency pad a friend of mine put him on!!!).  This was the first morning since taking the medication that he did not need to be carried down the stairs or around the house in the morning.  Typing this all out now makes it sound so very dramatic, which is why I haven't sat down to do it until now.  And, yet, he goes on business as usual.  Our days are still our days.  Yes, he gets upset and depressed about all this (so feel free to give him a good squeeze next time you see him!).  But somehow it has just become the new normal.  Not a dramatic soap opera.  Reading this back to myself makes it sound like I should be crying all day every day…and yet somehow it just feels like …I don’t know…a fact, I guess.  A really sucky fact, but a fact.  I talk to people about what is going on, not for sympathy or drama, but so they understand a bit about what he is going through.  So they find ways to support and show him kindness.  And to be aware in their own lives.

The upswing.  The upswing is that he has an amazing sense of humour.  The upswing is that his sisters have felt closer to him than ever - they check on him constantly and are extremely patient when he becomes frenetic and incendiary because they know it means he’s really hurting.  The upswing is that he is learning about his body in ways he had no intention of doing before.  The upswing is that learning how to be patient - for him AND the rest of us - is no longer a luxury.  It is a mandate.  And my biggest take away in all this is that it could have been much, much worse.  I can not emphasize that enough.  As I stood in the hospital feeling sorry for my son who was about to go through a lumbar puncture, the doctor explained to me that some kids - particularly those with cancer - can have one spinal tap every month.  Every month.  And that is when there is still hope for them to get better.  Perspective. 

The unknown, particularly when dealing with your child and illness, is such a scary demon to battle.  It is truly a humbling experience to walk into a children's hospital - to see the heroes and heroines, in patient-form, parent-form and those who care for them on a daily basis.  They have my utmost respect.  I highly recommend everyone to, for no particular reason at all, visit a children's hospital just once in their life.  Put it on your bucket list.  It will change you.

Once again, thanks for riding this wave with us.  Here's to a perfect barrel to give us clarity and wonder until the next turn and thrash of the undertow!

Spiders, spiders everywhere!

So I have this fear...Ok, it's closer to a phobia really. I have worked hard in my life to get over my fear of spiders, to not be obvious about it so as not to pass this along to my children. However, it has recently become evident to me that I am less "over it" than I have pretended. I suppose I should back up. This fall we found a fantastic place to land for the school year. It is a small cabin we are renting out from people who needed to go abroad for work. The idea was that we could park in the driveway and stay in the bus and, then, if we needed someplace warmer for a cold winter, we could move indoors. Rent was rent regardless. I was excited about the prospect of a space to use IF WE NEEDED IT, but had no intention of coming out of the bus. Long story short, the children had other ideas :) Day one bins started moving from the bus into the cabin and they set up shop. NO! I thought. I am NOT cleaning TWO places and looking everywhere for my stuff, which no longer lives in the place I always put it!

The kids, however, were loving their new found space to stretch out in...especially to get away from each other when they needed to. OK...fine. I can't disagree with them getting needed space and I could use the living room to set up a homeschool area. This worked well for a while, but I was NOT about to give up my bed. Especially since, and I reveal this at the expense of possibly losing potential house guests, there was a spider problem.

What's the big deal? They are just spiders, right? NOOOOOOO!!!! I have worked my way backwards from fear of spiders to holding daddy long legs, brushing out other lessor scary web-builders and even leaving spiders in their roost for weeks or months at a time to prove I could handle having them there. They aren't going to hurt you, right? Luckily, in this cabin we don't have the hobo spiders that are common to the area...but we do have WOLF SPIDERS!!! My least favorite, next to tarantulas. When they run across the room, not only can you hear them, but I often mistake them for a mouse (which I prefer). The first morning there were TWO GIANT ONES sitting next to us in the corner (vacuumed). The second day one ran out from under the table TOWARDS the youngest and made aggressive moves AS IF IT WERE GOING TO ATTACK HER!!! (she had a panic attack and still looks under the table). I found 23 WOLF SPIDERS IN THREE WEEKS (more than one a day)!!!!!! I wouldn't sit on the couch for almost a month after seeing one on it. I saw one run towards the guinea pigs and they ran!!!! For two months I shook out every thing I picked up off of a floor, chair, stairs, etc in case one was hiding - waiting to pounce at me.

The covered word in this pic says "wonder", but in this case the word "spiders" applies equally. But I started to really think about that...I started to WONDER about SPIDERS, which I will come back to in a moment. In the meantime, we started up with a new year of homeschooling and another year as a part of the "Spider" homeschool group, coincidentally.

Or was it a coincidence? Homeschooling is something I also had a bit of a fear of. Not a phobia, per se. But I definitely project an air of comfortability about it that I think a real homeschooler doesn't always feel. And why is that? I think because there is always doubt put on you from others who do not support or understand homeschooling and always, always, in everything self-doubt. Am I doing the right thing? Are they learning enough? Do they have enough time with peers? What will they do next? I also don't like it when scary things that I cannot control or know little about jump out at me from some dark place. And it is the same to be a homeschooler. The unknown. There is no routine, unless I make it. There is no real right and wrong. There are no clear cut lines between grades or ages or abilities or identities. There is this blur of time and space and moving with it and the unknown and a fluidity that can be terrifying.

And enlightening. And homeschool is just that. When it is needed, that fluidity, it calls to you and you (if time and money and inclination all point in your favor) become a homeschooler. And when it stops speaking to you or one or more of your children, you step back into that place of structure. That hard, fast learning super-highway that, if you hold on tight, will speed you through a barrage of information and offer you a framework to live by. It is all about what each individual and each family needs and about balance.

I watch families maneuver in and out of these systems. Some feeling too pressured within the brick and mortar to be able to excel and some feeling not enough challenge from either system. I am grateful that we can see benefits in every direction and are open and fluid enough to move with our needs. I am also grateful to have experienced both sides. Grateful for the people we deal with in our caring Spider community and the people I meet from brick and mortar who are supportive of all schooling regardless of what it looks like. And, for now, when I let go of those judgemental, self-effacing voices in my head and think of all the things we have learned (because it is a we), and all the things they know and are preparing for, I breathe and slow and calm. They will go on and on and on. Learning.

Some things we have been working with lately... writing our own stories, shadow puppetry, designing and sewing our own dolls, escher-style drawings and the mathematics of geometry, the AWESOMENESS of Science World, felting, visiting art studios and seeing their tools, balance and movement/jiu jitzu, poetry and acrostic poems, more book binding, math games, great books (like Cinder-Eyed Cats, Richard Scarry, 39 Clues, LOTR, etc.), lego (always) and sword-making (always), guitar and even more!

At home we lost power in the bus one night and I quickly realized that I could no longer hold off sleeping in the house. The gig was up. So, I started to research spiders a bit - specifically wolf spiders. There is, as I mentioned, fear in the unknown. Maybe if I learned more I would be less fearful. Here is what I found out: Wolf spiders are not web-builders. They hide in a dark spot and hunt. When something crosses their path they spring out at it. As a symbol, the spider itself is rich with meaning in cultures throughout the ages. As hunters they illustrate patience in dealing with major issues facing you. Their web represents your life and your destiny...that it is what you weave, what you make of it. That you are intricately connected to your past and your future and every person that has ever been woven into your life. The spider's body is shaped like the infinity symbol and represents your infinite nature throughout time...that your life is a ripple that goes on forever. Often referred to as "the mother", she is a sign of strength and creativity and her nimble movements point towards keeping the balance in all things.

Did this make me feel better? Yes, actually. If their presence represents patience and I am stomping on them at every turn, what does that say about my level of patience? Are there decisions we are facing that require slow investigation from all angles to see how best to creatively weave the future? Hells yes! Does it keep me from squashing the little buggers? Probably not. Luckily, however, I haven't seen any in weeks. I have even stopped looking under the beds and shaking out anything I touch. Mostly.

And, for now, we are really quite happy in this space. There is a bit of calm we have needed and couldn't find inside the bus lately. Particularly as the weather starts to turn.

Oh, sure, the kids are already asking when we can get back in the bus and take a road trip. And it is hard to predict just what the next adventure will be with all our crazy ideas. But we know that, through it all, you are just as curious as we are to see what we do next. Here's to learning from the past, living in the moment and throwing darts at the future!! Enjoy weaving your webs :)

What is an immigrant?

This question is on my mind a lot lately. I know you all require much updating since I have not posted since May...and I will oblige with some images and timeline references scattered throughout. But first please allow me to meander :) What is an immigrant? It is defined as "a person who comes to live permanently in a foreign country". I don't know that this family ever does ANYTHING permanently! We are like the ROMA - kicking about in the tides and slightly unnerving to those who have no call to the road (or the sea). And, yet, we are now residents of Canada. My travels as an exchange student, my current work as a volunteer with YFU, the current political climate in the US and the floods of refugees all swim in my head as I consider what it means to be an immigrant beyond what one finds written on the page. This summer had us travelling back "home" again after being gone for almost a full year.

They say you can't go home again. I disagree and go home again and again and again.

We went home in planes, trains, and automobiles to the memories of who we were, the knowledge of who we are now, to those with fewer memories and a new little one with memories yet to be had. We went home to find our others...

I think about all these people that I LOVE and MISS soooooo much. But how hard is it for me really when I know I will and can go back. That, despite how desperate things may look to me financially at times...not seeing my family isn't in question the way it is and has been for so many immigrants. What would it be like to never see these faces again?

And then I consider what it takes to pack up your things and move to another place. Sure, I've done it. I packed two suitcases and went to Germany for a year when I was on exchange. I thought that was pretty hard...what do you choose? As a teen, nonetheless. We did it to move into the bus. However, as a teen I returned home after that year to my family and my possessions that I left behind. Even as an adult with a family we still have memorabilia and stuff in storage that we can return to from time to time. I realize that not all immigrants are in the most dire situations when they move. But think about your lives for a moment. What would make you pick and choose through your possessions, pack up what you could, take some of your family members (if you could) and move to a totally different country where you may not know the language or the culture? And possibly may not be able to afford, or be allowed, to return to your homeland again?

While my children were being very well cared for by my relatives, I was fortunate to volunteer at the National Pre-Departure Orientation for the Youth for Understanding Exchange Program. This is where we prepare the next generation of exchange student to go off into the world. First off, I am privileged to spend time with these people. The team leaders and staff are some of the most passionate and compassionate people I have ever met. We understand each other, as one former exchange student to another, and for 5 days I renew and absorb as much as I can from them. Secondly, the students there give me hope for the world of tomorrow. And, lastly, I always reflect on how difficult it is for me to leave my children...even for just 5 days. They are what I do and what I know and, while I am well aware of what a blessing the distance and space and renewal are for me, I consider what it must be like to immigrate away from your children. Or as a child away from your parents. There is a really beautiful scene in the movie BROOKLYN that I think paints this picture so well. Or in JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN, when you have no idea if your child is being well-cared for. Granted, these are old references. Today is a different world with Skype and the Internet and travel. For some of us.

Our trip came to an end and we returned to the place we currently call home. And to daddy!

Who is extremely patient with all of his wife's crazy ideas and talk of "faith in the process":)

We became involved in camps and found parks and water play and friends and lots to be involved in.

Which makes me think about what we tell exchange students. "When you first arrive, you will be so overwhelmed with the change and the differences in culture that you may experience culture shock". We tell them the warning signs and that the best antidote is, contrary to how you feel, get out into the world and get involved. We do this, partly because I know it from experience. I wonder, does anyone talk to immigrants about this? When they are depressed or lonely or homesick and keeping to themselves, do other people reach out and try to connect with them and pull them out of their shell? Or do they point at them and say things like, "Why can't they learn the language?", "Why do they only hang out with people like them?", "Why don't they try to integrate into our country if they are going to live here?". Maybe they would. Perhaps they just need some help. A friendly face. A cup of tea.

I think about how difficult it can be to be us sometimes - this particular family. The judgement and the criticism for being different. People trying to classify us in their minds one way or another to make it feel OK for themselves. "Oh, they're eccentric (or artsy or trendy or drug addicts or uncouth or unmotivated or jaded or lazy or whatever). Or needing us to portray some ideal that they want to achieve and cannot so that when we fall short of the mark it is immediately pointed at. And, yet, we can "afford" to be counter-culture. We can blend. We can be their ideal if they need that. It is a luxury that many immigrants do not have. If they do not assimilate to the standards and projected image of others, they are treading too heavily on the comfort zones of those who can barely expand their circle wide enough to include themselves. I guarantee that if things went really, really south in their country, they would be the first to pack and find a new flag to wave. Have not most of us changed jobs, neighbourhoods, schools? Except those that cannot even afford to push themselves into the next town, though I speculate they would if they could. Where is the chant within our own borders "they are coming to take our stuff?" What is the difference if your job is on this side of the line or that? The chant exists still...it is the small town that complains of the city-folk moving in, the gentrification, school systems that wax and wane with students and the school board that lures them in and then complains about the burden. The chant always exists, we just call it different things according to where we are and who is treading on us. Immigrants, northerners, southerners, out-of-staters, tourists, locals, etc. Are we not all people? Should we never have crossed the land bridge?!?! Or if the apes hadn't moved into the grasslands and stood, where would we be then?!?!

When we returned there was an eerie, smoky haze cast over the sun. The haze dissipated for a while and has actually since returned. It feels ominous to me. Like a warning. Like a message not to be ignored. The fires affecting people we know in Canada. The flooding affecting people we know in Texas. The hurricane affecting people we know in Savannah. And these are just the people we know in places we have friends and family. Somehow, this is the new normal.

So what am I trying to say? I don't know. Maybe we have no idea how long we are here. Or what the future holds. So don't just be with the ones you love. Love the ones you are with. No matter who they are or how different they are. Reach that hand out and give them a leg up, a smile, a cup of coffee, some coins for the vending machine. Because the next time you reach out, maybe it is you that needs the hand.