Possessions

They are just things.  Objects made of wood, metal, plastic and paper.  But they are yours, and they make your house into a home.  And when the entirety of your belongings are packed into 301 boxes, then tightly fit, like a puzzle, into a large metal container, and sent off to navigate the seven seas for weeks on end, just so that your container can be trucked back to your doorstep 10 weeks later, suddenly your worldly belongings take on a bit more importance than merely being things.  You realize that if something happens to your container, be it a leak, a fire or simply being lost at sea (yep, 500 hundred containers at the bottom of the ocean), the only material belongings you will have left will consist of what you managed to pack in the 10 suitcases you brought with you.

Suddenly a bit of panic sets in.  And not just because your things are out of your control for such an extended period of time.  And not because you are really that attached to these pieces of wood and metal, paper, and plastic.  You are, but you also know that there are things that are more important.  You know people who have lost it all, and come out the other end, stronger and with a restored faith in humanity for all the help that was provided them.  You know that it wouldn't be the end of the world if a freak accident befell your shipment.  But you also know that it also wouldn't be easy to handle either.  Again, not simply because you are attached to material things, but because they aren't only your possessions, they are also your memories, your heirlooms, your snapshots and your treasures.  And they are a lifeline to your previous life.  They are one of the only things that will be the same, one of the only things that will be able to make you feel like you are home like you are still you when you finally reach your new land.

Because when you packed up your things and sent them on ahead, you left behind just as much, if not more.  You left behind friends that you made fast and furiously and then had to leave just as quickly.  You will once again be dependent on your GPS to get further than your driveway because all of the roads will be different.  It won't just be a few things that change, but pretty much everything.  In most cases, you will have to start all over again.  And I mean ALL over.  The girls will have to settle into new schools.  You will have to make sure that the family adjusts to their new house and embraces it as home.  You will have to learn new rules for driving, you will learn to navigate new bureaucracies, and you will do it all in a new language.  You will find that none of the brands that you finally learned to love in your last country, will be available in your new one.  So you will have to find new favorite foods, new brands of laundry detergent and even a new toilet paper.  Everything will be unfamiliar, indecipherable and unrecognizable.  And all you will long for will be something old, something of yours.  Something that grounds you to who you are and where you come from.  Because you can start to forget even that when it is so painfully obvious that you are a stranger in a strange land each and every time you walk out your front door.  You will yearn to be surrounded by the things that you know, to be surrounded by the things that hold your memories, the things that have been with you through it all.

And so will your children.  They will have new schools where they will be the new kids - again.  They will have to make new friends and adjust to hearing and learning, another new language.  These creatures that thrive on consistency and daily routines that don't vary will have to chuck it all out the window and start all over.  Except for their belongings.  Their beloved blankies, their special stuffed animal, their art supplies and their toys.  It's amazing what these few things can do to make their house feel like their new home.  They will ask you for them, repeatedly.  They will have to be reassured, time and again, that it all really did get packed and not just left behind.  71 days is a long time to little people, an eternity indeed.  71 days is a long time to an adult.

So, imagine how excited we are that are things are finally coming home to us.  Finally, we won't be living in a house that echoes from emptiness, but hopefully in a home that reverberates with the laughter of a family, settled.