No big deal–the castle in my German backyard.
One year ago today, I boarded a plane in Munich, Germany for a nine-hour flight bound for Chattanooga. Home.
Ten months we lived in Southern Bavaria, a beautiful land dotted in ancient castles and green pastures rolling. We lived in a Mayberryesque town you’ve never heard of, where within two weeks I was running into people I knew (as in just met) at the local grocery store. There, I couldn’t read a thing. Shopping was a guessing game, an everyday adventure, wild sport. In those early days, it took me hours to buck up and brave up just to pick up something for dinner.
It’s easy to romanticize, of course, and I understand why anyone would. Living in Germany on the company dime? Traipsing across Europe at a fraction of what it would cost if originating travel from the States? It does sound good, and it was–we lived a lifetime of magical moments during those ten months. I said it then and I stand by it now, this was an unexpected, mid-life God-gift.
But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
Vacationing abroad doesn’t touch what it means to live abroad. It’s Mars and gardenias. Apples and orangutans. Night and shining armor. Not the same thing at all.
The things I thought would be hardest – at times living apart from my children, at times living apart from my husband, loneliness, food tasting totally different (everything), the language barrier, loss of familiarity, assimilating to a new culture, separation from friends, family and creature comforts – weren’t the hardest things–isn’t that unbelievable?! Writing it out is even a surprise to me. There was something even more challenging, likely because I hadn’t seen it coming:
Limbo.
Living with our lives on hold.
Treading water for a year.
Purgatory.
Until you lived in a state of flux, it probably doesn’t seem like a big deal.
But the longer I live, the more I realize: Until you’ve walked in another’s shoes, don’t judge.
All those things I was so sure about in my 30s? Out the door.
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So, a year ago today, I stepped off a plane in Chattanooga and went home.
But what happens when you’re busy making other plans?
Life. Twisty and turny and so unpredictable.
Instead of stepping off that plane and settling into routine again, we found ourselves in the middle of extended uncertainty because of hard choices we found ourselves having to make.
We had gone to Germany for my husband to train 12-16 months while his local plant was under construction….
I remember the day the bomb dropped, via Twitter of all things–
A friend tweeted a link to me of an article in the Chattanooga paper that said the company announced an 18-month delay in construction; she wanted to know if/how it would impact us.
I thought the newspaper didn’t know what it was talking about, that the entire article was a big, fat, pathetic excuse for journalism.
Bless my heart.
I sent my husband a text telling him about the article, asking him about it, and when I didn’t hear back, I called him. No answer.
Five minutes later he walked in the door of our little German apartment – two hours early from work – and I asked if he had received my earlier text; I knew he wouldn’t have heard my call while he was bicycling home.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he said with an odd sort of smile. I knew that meant we needed to talk out of earshot of our youngest; he was attending school in Germany at the time. Our apartment was too small to hold secrets.
As soon as the door closed behind us, he confirmed the newspaper article. We would learn soon enough what the implications would be to us:
- remain in Germany an additional two years – or –
- walk away from a great job with no others in sight
Given the ages of our children and stage of life, living abroad for three years was an impossibility. Though we had figured out a way to make it work for 12-18 months, we knew our limits. It was simple to order our priorities – marriage and family. But living out the reality of our decision was agonizing at times. Adding to the material, psychological and emotional impact of unemployment, over a 12 month period the stresses mounted:
- my baby turned 16 and started driving
- my middle child would graduate high school
- my oldest child would turn 21, and prior to that, leave for a five-month internship (too far from home to visit)
- I injured my knee requiring surgery
- In a HOW CAN THAT BE POSSIBLE revelation from my doctor, I learned I was post-menopausal. (More on that soon.)
- My husband and I celebrated our 50th birthdays, four weeks apart. I have never had a hard time with my age or milestone birthdays, but 50? She got in my head….
- and I was mourning our German life–the friends and culture we learned to love so quickly and had to leave before I was ready. Those people have no idea how deeply affecting they still are in my life (I’m looking at you Ellie, Vanessa, Suzanne, Barb, Gordon, LeAna, Uta, Tracey F., Margarite, Amanda, Daria, Deede, Iris, Tracey R. and our Breakfast Stammtisch).
We lived a very small life those first few months home; unless you were family or close friends, it was just too complicated and exhausting to explain our circumstances.
Despite leaving his job, we did receive a severance package and had money in savings (thanks to my disciplined, budget-savvy husband); and we weren’t dealing with life or death or devastating issues with our children. We understood it could be a lot worse.
But making those kind of comparisons isn’t wise. Of course you can always find others worse off (or better off) than you!
Another person’s “more dire” circumstance does not diminish the struggle or pain or frustration of what you’re going through.
And that kind of thinking heaps a load of false guilt on top of an already battered and bruised heart.
The mom of one of my husband’s ex-pat co-workers said something that began haunting me the day I saw her comment on Facebook. Sheri told her daughter she’d be chasing her memories (of living in Germany) the rest of her life. I knew it was true even before we left.
By the end of his job search, my husband would end up with several good offers. Praise God.
Just like the opportunity to live abroad for a short-term assignment, five months of unemployment was an unexpected, mid-life God gift. It’s not a stretch to suggest I preferred the former to the latter, but nonetheless, both were gifts.
Soon, I’ll elaborate. I’ll let go of what I’ve been holding close.
But, today I’ll raise a glass in remembrance. I’ll look you in the eye (as we were instructed to do), clink the bottom of my glass to yours and say, “Prost.”
Because a year ago today I stepped off a plane from Germany, and not long after I realized I left something behind…
*
*
*
A piece of my heart.
beautiful.
xo
Robin, on a smaller scale I can relate. This is a beautiful post. I am so glad I got to meet you at Allume!!
Mary,
There just wasn’t enough time, was there? Wish we had been able to go deeeeeeper :).
Sweet and poignant. Love it.
Dianne,
Thanks, friend (and for your double-nought secret message, too 🙂 ).
Goodness, I love this to the moon and back. It bears witness to the journey, and while I’ve never lived in a foreign country, I know a miniature version of this longing thanks to our frequent moves across the U.S.A. Homesickness comes in waves.
I want to hear more of the details, though. 🙂 Continue the story!
Kelly,
On so many levels, I haven’t been *able* to write this for now. Some of that stems from it being too painful and personal while you’re in the middle of it, some of it simply deals with privacy issues.
But it’s coming…that, I can promise you :).
(and thank you for asking!) xo
How grateful I am that your special time of life is beautifully shared here in your writings. I can relate in some ways as I , too, have this affection and connection to Germany over the years. I have two Patenkinders there. Two girls that I have watched grown up since birth. Now one is a Doctor in Hamburg. I went to her graduation “Ball” about a 1 1/2 yrs. ago. The other is a Biology major in Cologne . I started reading your blog just about the time you made that move to Munich. I lived in Munich for a short time (3mos.) and know it well . I enjoy so much your “aliveness in life” that is shared so sweetly in your writings… Thank you for sharing.
Evelyn,
Thank you so much for your comment! How special to have lived the experience YOU have–I can hear the affections in your words.
There was an oddness to blogging while I was in Germany; I shared so little of our experience. There was a point at which it felt icky, gratuitous, show-offy or something…and I just couldn’t share much. Now…looking back…flipping through thousands of pictures…I’m twitchy to tell some stories.
I’m grateful for your encouragement this morning. Truly.
I love to read your posts and thank you for pouring hope into me today. I have never lived abroad, but could relate to you talking about being in limbo and life continuing to happen around you. I try to live in each moment of amazing things happening with the one in college, the one about to finish high school and the young boy becoming a young man. Truly be happy and grateful, even though his unemployment has gone on for almost a year and I don’t know what tomorrow will bring or even today. Thank you for being a blessing. You are so very wise and always point my thinking the right way. Thank you.
To my friend who knows the proper way to “cheers,” with eyes connected & hearts full I say “prost” – and blessings on you my beautiful sister.
Mama D,
I love the way you write about the things you´re concerned about. I am really happy that you liked Germany that much and I am glad that everything worked out for you all well now. I miss you a lot because whenever I got to talk to you and asked for your advice you seemed so smart and wise (you know solutions to everything) and that is what I remember about you: A wise,loving an strong mother. I can´t wait to come visit in march it still seems so surreal.
Love you,
hugs and kisses from Hannah
When I was a child we lived in Germany for four years, and I’ve been able to go back and visit three times now (one as a teen, two as an adult). I would move there in a heartbeat if I could convince my big dog that flying is fun.
Your blog posts have moved me a great deal lately. Thank you.
“Prost!” dear friend…
I still miss it every day. My heart is there, and I fear I won’t find home like that again.
I catch glimpses of that land here… Did you know that Kentucky has countryside and rolling hills much like Germany? Drive through it one day with your windows down, and your heart wide open… You can feel it.
XOXO.
Sending prayers of hope. We all need a little hope now and then.
Robin,
This post touched me….thanks for being real.
Thanks for not invalidating your own sruggles.
For , how can Christ show us the manifested realities of our
victories when we don’t admit we had something to overcome?
p.s. I turn 55 on Christmas Eve this year and can admit I am
getting braver and stonger in Christ with each passing year.
Thank you God for giving me whatever measure of wisdom You
deem appropriate. May I always receive it with gratitude. Amen.
Such memories! You shared them all with us along that way and brought us with you to a land we may never know, and especially the way you knew it! Thank you for that. As for the rest, you wouldn’t be Robin Dance, if you said anything contrary; all the reasons we love you ~ and pray for you, dear lady!! Keep up the good fight! Its been a joy so far!
Ah…Lynn…you put the “happy” in my day! Thanks friend!
I had no idea about all of that. I was not a good blog-reader the past 1 1/2 – 2 years
Pamela,
I haven’t shared MOST of it; the living in Germany part, yes…but not most of this.
Sounds like God has bigger and better plans for you. Experiencing other cultures can be both frightening and fun at the same time.
Perhaps God can help you use this part of your journey to help others in similar straits.
Your writing, as always, is a wonderul God-given talent and I absolutely love reading it. Can’t wait to read the rest of the story!
Oh Robin. How I do love this. How I love that God, in His great mercy, continues to teach even those of us who have reached *cough* middle age some very important lessons. I love you, dear friend. And I pray we both keep learning and learning and learning.
Shelly,
Don’t you think NOW we’re soft enough to listen? To absorb? To understand and process all of this? Before, we knew waaaaaay too much, didn’t we? You are one of my internet treasures…xo
It was good having you here and your family here Robin. Just one of Life’s little learning curves!!
Though my leaving wasn’t nearly as bitter sweet as yours {i was20 years old running away from unpleasantness} I still miss those tight quarters and walking everywhere and the sounds and languages – maybe even some of the smells.
OUr hearts must have beat together a few moments when you wrote ::
Another person’s “more dire” circumstance does not diminish the struggle or pain or frustration of what you’re going through.
And that kind of thinking heaps a load of false guilt on top of an already battered and bruised heart.
My heart has recently been shredded and yet I feel like I’m learning through it how to say yes to His invitation to offensively look for his gifts. Not defensively say “it’s could be worse”
Thank you for sharing your heart so clearly that I could hear my own echo in the space you created.
Many blessings!
Beautifully written! I especially appreciate your comments about other peoples “dire circumstances” vs our own. Very well said!! I think it is always a good barometer so I don’t go too far into my own drama trauma BUT also good to remember that I am only meant to handle what God made me to handle.
Wise words – thanks!!
Robin, you are a master wordsmith of the heart. Reading your words always, always leaves me wanting more. You had me there with you and I know what it’s like to lose a piece of your heart to something. Love the wisdom you’ve gained in the past year and the reflection you’ve shared. You are a treasure!
Beautiful, Robin. Difficult on both ends of that adventure and a totally faith-stretching experience all the way around. Looking forward to whatever else you choose to write about all of this.
Robin,
Wow, reading about your experience, I see so many parallels to our lives over the past 4 years including the big 50 birthday! I’m a gardener, and I describe the events in our family’s life as being uprooted (moving after 28 years in an area), root pruned (leaving the familiar & relationships with much history) and transplanted (moving to everything new). In the midst of our life struggles, God gave us gifts along the way of sweet new friendships and refreshment through new discoveries in His beautiful creation! As you said, life is what happens when you’ve made other plans. We invested our hearts and our efforts in this new place, not without difficulties, and things did not go as we planned. Here we are back to where we started from….isn’t that a song?? And I find myself doing as your friend’s mom said, “chasing memories”! It’s just hard.