I’ve written many times about how I sailed around the world after I graduated from high school on a literature ship. In my three years working with the Logos II I visited over forty countries and dozens of port cities. It was a formative time in my life that changed me forever.
What I haven’t written much about is that my younger sister, when she graduated from high school, also moved onto a literature ship and sailed around the world. She hopped onto the Doulos, the sister ship, and sailed all over Asia and Africa. She met a handsome Australian man and eventually moved to Australian and lives there with her husband and three sons.
My own family has globe-trotted all over the place. My kids are Chilean Americans, have dual citizenship, and speak Spanish and English. They spent their first several years of life boarding airplanes, and trotting through airports. Their dad is Chilean and they have tons of family in Chile, so even before we lived there, we visited almost annually.
My sister has managed to visit almost every year, but it’s expensive to bring entire families anywhere. Consequently, our kids have rarely been in the same country at the same time. Even less in the same house.
She’s here with her three boys, and we’re all hanging out on the lake together. We went on a little road trip the other day together to Friday Harbor, hung out with a bunch of friends yesterday. Today, we’re taking it easy and making it a fun swim day.
There are wonderful benefits to having an international family. My kids know their way around an airport, understand international currency, can study a map of an underground train and get themselves through big cities without hesitation. They know their way around multiple languages, comprehend time change, and generally do not suffer from xenophobia.
The downside is that their cousins, on my side, live thousands of miles away from them, and my kids don’t know their people the way I would have liked them to.
As we drove up to Friday Harbor and the kids laughed, got car sick, and chatted together, my heart ached and it overflowed with gratitude.
Every decision we make has blessings, and its own specific sets of costs. Sometimes we don’t realize the costs to our decisions and we go blundering on thinking all will be merry and well. Other times, as we make our way to airports, and check time zones for making late night phone calls, we know exactly what it’s going to cost. It’s going to cost more than is even expressible, and sometimes it’s hardly bearable.
This morning, I woke to a silent house. I went to work on an assignment for class. Eventually, the pitter-patter of feet made their way to the pantry. Little boy hands poured Lucky Charms into a bowl. He sat down with his new toy, ate cereal, and chatted with me.
Later, boys swam for hours in the fresh water. We made our way to the dock. My sister paddle-boarded all over the lake, I soaked in the sun, my mom brought food, and sat with us as we all walked down memory lane. A dear friend came over.
Later, we ate dinner in the cool of evening with the sprinklers running and one of the boys cut his foot on the dock. Summer in all its glory.
Nothing lasts forever. This time will pass as quickly as it arrived. The boys will fly back to Australia, and my kids will move toward their next thing. But for now, they’re together. They’re talking and squabbling, swimming and playing, and for this moment, we’re not an international family who lives wide spread across two continents. We’re just a family, and I am soaking up every minute.
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