I'm not sure why it's repeated so often lately. Perhaps it's because some months have passed since I first made the decision to uproot my life and move to this faraway island nation. I had big dreams, big plans, a planned schedule for everything from learning the language to finding a job, marrying my fiance, and getting my kids here.
None of it has gone to plan. None of it.
So, after nearly a year of traveling back and forth between my life here and the remnants of my life in the states, I am also asking myself: why Denmark? Why this place instead of staying closer to the life I knew?
I have no simple answer.
It was the same question I heard when I decided to adopt my children from China those many years ago. Why China? Didn't I realize there were babies geographically closer that needed homes? Why? It's so far away, so different, so expensive, so not here, so not the same as what we know.
When people asked back then, I stated the only answer I knew. "My daughter (and three years later, my son), the child meant for me, is in China."
I can't say the same for why I came to Denmark. In fact, I left my kids in the U.S. with promises of getting them here as quickly as possible. A year later they are still waiting. Well, not really waiting. They have decided they will be finishing high school in the states, and visiting me on school breaks. It was an inevitable compromise given Alabama state laws, an uncooperative ex-husband, a lengthy settling-in process, and unproductive job search. It was inevitable; I just hadn't seen it at first.
So, why Denmark?
I moved to Denmark because I had fallen irretrievably in love with someone I believe is meant to be my forever companion. Yet, as beautiful and romantic as that statement is, such a decision comes at great cost. It is a cost measured in moments of deep frustration, terrible loneliness, and self recrimination that leave you questioning why such a risk could have been worth it. Why, when so many others live fulfilling, happy lives in roughly the same circumstances as I had before leaping into this far flung alternate reality. Why should I have taken such a chance?
It's not a simple answer. Especially when I alone must answer it, even when I have my own doubts.
Initially, I looked to my partner to provide reassurance that the decision would work out in the end, or at least made sense for me. But like jumping into a rushing river, life does not often stand still long enough to collect our thoughts about such a meaningful decisions after the fact. There is too much daily work to be done, meals to be made, projects to be completed, businesses to build, kids to be grown, trips to be planned, bills to be paid. Suddenly, this strange new alternate life just becomes...life.
My circumstance. My reality. My choice.
Becomes.
Our circumstance. Our reality. Our choices.
If we choose to see it that way.
What we set out to do is not always what happens. When I traveled to China fourteen years ago, I didn't envision the last high school years of my children would be spent living a split reality between the United States and Denmark. But I did know I would love my children forever, no matter our circumstances. That fact will never change.
Denmark feels like home now. But more than that, this life feels like home now. I long for my children daily, but even this sense of apart-ness has gained a sense of normal. When I consider the long term reality of who they are and who we all are together, I am reassured that we will all be okay. My partner, Glenn, and I just returned from a trip to spend Fall Break with them. Apart from my joy of just being around them for some uninterrupted days, I was able to observe my son and daughter as the incredible human beings they are, and will continue to be throughout their lives.
One evening, while playing a game of Monopoly, something set the four of us to laughing. I was laughing so hard, my son was getting exasperated, trying to get me back to the game. As George scolded me that I needed to focus, it felt like he had become the wizened adult and I was the vexing child.
I looked at Glenn, and said, "you know, this is what they'll be like when they visit us in the nursing home." We laughed at the comedic image. But it also gave me comfort, because it reminded me that we have many, many years ahead of us on this journey. To grieve too much for time apart only lessens the joy when we are together.
So, why Denmark? Because it is home, a home for not only our present but for our future, whatever form that takes. It was and still is worth every risk to be here. Things continue to settle, and we are still working our way toward the goals we have before us, but so is everybody in this life. We aren't there yet, but you never know what surprises might already be on their way.
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| Alabama, Fall Break 2017 |
