I’ve been
thinking a lot recently about how to close out our blog. What could I possibly
say that would sum up our three years, resonate with us and others, and give a
sense of all that we’ve experienced and what we’ve learned?
But then
I got into my car one day and found a CD playing instead of the radio. When we
first moved here and realized there were only 2 English-language radio stations, I made
some CDs and took a few from my existing collection to stash in the car. Of
course, they promptly got stuck under a seat and I basically forgot about them.
But as we’ve been cleaning out the cars, they must have re-surfaced and, during
a particularly annoying bout of top 40 music (the only thing on the radio
here), Yoni stuck one in. It was a mix I made with my high school friends our
first year of college, and, obviously, featured the RENT classic Seasons of
Love.
While
that song has always resonated with me, I’ve found myself coming back to it a
lot in the past couple of weeks. How do
you measure a year, the lyrics ask. In
daylights/in sunsets/in midnights/in cups of coffee/in inches/miles/in
laughter/in strife. I started thinking, how I would measure the three years
we’ve spent in Okinawa?
…in birthday balls.
…in Friday night services.
…in drives in the mountains.
…in time spent hoping for, waiting for, and loving on
Calanit.
…in pedicures.
…in trips to the beach with Penny.
…in diapers.
…in time spent sitting in traffic.
…in chaplain spouse get-togethers.
…in trips to the aquarium.
…in hours spent on skype and facetime.
…in time spent breast-feeding.
…in doctor’s appointments.
…in time spent making and maintaining new friendships.
…in visits from family and friends.
…in walks on the beach.
…in time spent waiting for Yoni to get home from work or
back from deployment.
…in blog posts.
…in sushi.
…in Thanksgivings / Christmases / endless Jewish holidays
spent with friends and family but sometimes (often) without Yoni.
…in time spent feeling lonely and/or alienated.
…in time spent feeling welcomed and included.
Of
course, in RENT, the answer is simple: measure in love. And I really believe the same is true for us.
As hard as it was for us to accept the idea of moving here; as difficult as it
was to find our place; as much as we missed our friends and family back home;
as much as I would never say I or we loved being out here – I choose to measure
our time here in love. In the love I feel for Yoni, Calanit and Penny. In the
love that Yoni feels for his Marines. In the love that service members
worldwide feel for their country. In the love that the chaplain community
showers on its members. Three years later, I’m choosing to remember the love.
Thanks
for supporting us, following us, cheering us on from near and far. For loving
us. We couldn't have made it to the other side of this three years without you.
All our love,
Leora, Yoni, Calanit and Penny
over and out.