Part 4: Smooth Landing

Isn't this adorable? This greets you as you step off the plane.

We made it. My first impression as the plane landed at twilight was that the terrain looks like Utah with large flat grassy expanses and mountains rising off in the distance. But the architecture (at least surrounding the airport) was decidedly different, it was definitely Communist. And then the airport itself is new construction, all swoopy glass and metal. As we drove up the main highway (named lovingly after George W. Bush) I thought that it looked a bit like what I've seen of Greece, around Athens.

The city of Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia and our home for the next three years, has been continuously inhabited for thousands of years. The many layers of civilization were immediately apparent. Ancient stone churches dot the landscape, filled in with nineteenth and early twentieth-century stone architecture, side by side with the ubiquitous dull Communist-era buildings and highrises, but what was surprising was the post-1991 construction: all ultra-modern glass, metal and cement feats of architecture and balance. It makes for a diverse and surprising landscape.

As we drove closer to our neighborhood we decided that by night it looked like the proletariat side of Nice (which we've only ever seen at night). The streets are still decorated in honor of the Orthodox Christmas, on January 7. It provided us a warm and charming greeting. After seeing pictures for many months, it was a surreal and happy moment to stand before our actual home. Then we collapsed.

Part 3: Speed Bumps

At the culmination of the first leg of flight we managed to leave behind our bag of traveling snacks, our water bottles, and a pair of glasses. Due to nonaffiliated airlines (read: the obscurity of our destination), we had to collect our baggage, exit the international terminal, and re-check in all over again. So fun. During this process we discovered that one of our suitcases had never left the States. Luckily I had packed with this possibility in mind, but we lost a lot of time sorting things out.

Considering it was 3am our time, the girls did a great job navigating around the airport with all their luggage. As we continued all the way to the end of a very long corridor, other travelers dropped off and we were surrounded by only the passengers that would share our plane. It felt like we were approaching a little piece of Georgia right there on the fringes of the Amsterdam airport.

The Georgian Airlines plane was undoubtedly retired from some other company. It had a faded and stale-smelling interior, but brightly-colored headrest flaps and a friendly crew. The single-aisle 6-seat wide interior was only about a third full, which allowed us room to spread out. So we did. In fact thanks to a grumpy tired baby, we pretty much never stopped moving for the entire 4.5 hour flight.

First glimpse of mountainous Georgia.

Part 2: Flying High

The girls enjoying the superior luxury and comfort of Business Class.

Unbelievable. After a complication and lengthy delay at the check-in desk, we were the last passengers to board our plane. Maybe it was for that reason, or luck, or fate, but as we fumbled for our tickets the agent at the gate informed us we'd been upgraded to Business Class. What?! We couldn't believe our luck (still can't). In fact I felt guilty as the extremely kind and accommodating flight attendants fussed over us because I knew we didn't really belong there. And we're not the most streamlined group, let's just say. Even now as I write this and we are flying through the air, I still find it unbelievable that we are actually going to Georgia.

Part 1: Blastoff

We've never claimed to pack light.

My husband and I agreed that the fact that we are leaving today with all our affairs in order and no major catastrophes is some kind of miracle. I'm only sorry that I've been so busy preparing for our trip that I haven't had a spare moment to feel excited. People often ask if I am, but I find it difficult to feel excited about the unknown. The feeling I have had of late is more akin to the feeling you get when the lap bar descends on a roller coaster ride and you jolt forward. The "maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all" feeling. But by then it's too late, and before you know it, it's all over and it was such a thrill that you never regret it.

So the countdown is over. Georgia, ready or not, here we come!

One Last . . .

One last group picture with our good friends,

one last summer trip with cousins,

one last birthday party,

one last first day of school,

one last camping trip . . .

. . . at the beach,

one last family wedding,

one last extended family dinner,

one last Halloween,

one last Santa Lucia and trip to New York,

more recently, one last delivery of farm-fresh eggs and raw milk from my favorite local Amish farmer,

and one last check on the plumbing.

We've had a number of "one lasts" this fall, some significant, others mundane, but they've all contributed to the culmination of this season of life.

empty rooms

I captured a few shots with my ipad just before I closed the door for the last time. Though nearly empty (we left the piano behind), the house did not feel forlorn, but rather, expectant. I wish I had pictures from the day we moved in seven years ago. The transformation is remarkable.

moving day

Grey and tangled.

For months I have been anticipating/dreading the moment when the moving truck would rumble up my street, and when it finally came, it felt like the judgment day and I was a sinner. In typical fashion I had prepared the house and packed everyone else's things before my own, which meant I was literally throwing things in a suitcase in my room as the movers were waiting outside in the hallway. And they were not amused. All day I ran up and down the stairs, all around the house, fielding questions as the five stone-faced movers plowed through.

Up until this point I made it a priority to be meticulously organized, but this day was like an ink splotch on my careful caligraphy. I managed to lose my cellphone charger, my ipad charger, and my car keys, all in one morning. By the end of the day I was so drained physically and emotionally I felt ill.

The image that keeps returning to my mind is of the proverbial wheel of time. I'm like a pebble caught in the treads; I've been picked up, and I'm rolling forward, ready or not.

What an ordeal it is to move! By the end of day two as I waved them goodbye with the last of my worldly possessions I felt like I deserved some kind of award, and yet people do this all the time. How?

Home for Christmas

A Christmas miracle: snow on Christmas Eve.

Naturally the children rush outside to jump on the trampoline,

while I bake cookies inside.

Decorations are provided,

dinner is prepared,

and we share our last meal together in our home.

Provisions for Santa were not forgotten.

Christmas morning dawns,

and a childhood rite of passage is shared with our newest member.

sorting spools and such

As our final days draw near we do a lot of sorting. While I work, my little one scours his eye level for things to unhinge at a pace that rivals my rate of organization. This week, to his delight, he discovered spools of thread.

When my paternal grandma (can't imagine calling her grandmother) passed away a number of years ago I inherited one of three sewing kits. Now when I say "kit", what I mean is a generously-sized three-tiered tackle box with every compartment filled to the brim. I guess she did a lot of sewing, but that was before my time. In any case, she was famously organized and along with the kit I also got this bin of spools. I've added to it over the years, but other than that it has remained unmolested until this week when my little guy emptied it's contents on the floor. As I was gathering and rewinding the thread I saw, for the first time, something on the bottom of the bin that Grandma had written years ago. In bold black permanent marker in all caps it said, "PANTY HOSE". Anyone who knew Grandma knows this is so classic, and I've been chuckling to myself about it ever since.

I love that I'll be bringing this little piece of my past to our new life abroad. Life is both a physical and emotional journey, and while I'm doing everything I can to be physically ready, the emotional part is harder to manage. I'm so grateful for these little gems of experience along the way that enable me to process and proceed in this bittersweet transition.

the end of the road

The first thing we did in 2009 was buy a Honda Odyssey. Most young families see
the purchase of a minivan as a delightless inevitability. We included ourselves in this camp.

However, in short order we found ourselves enamored with the space,
convenience, and family-friendly design. We grew to love our minivan.

We carefully shoveled it out from many a blizzard.

We trusted our minivan to carry us safely and comfortably on more than a dozen cross-country trips.

But mostly it was always there for us, in the background of life,

witnessing many impromptu front porch picnics,

providing a protective buffer for little ones,

 and guarding our family space.

This summer it carried our closest friends away to the airport to live abroad,
but it will not do the same for us because last week we sold it.

As we looked on our beloved van one last time at the dealer parking lot, I would have sworn at that moment, though composed of glass, rubber, and steel, that our van had a soul. And it was definitely female. The girls were sure of it.

We were told to bring a vehicle with four-wheel-drive and a high clearance to Georgia, and the van failed both requirements. So we traded it in for a sporty number in gold. It is definitely cooler than our old van in every way, but let's just say it has a big parking spot to fill.

'tis the season

Woe is me.

We are weary. Every night we collapse into bed after another long day of preparation and promise each other it won't always be this way. I decided to compose a Master To Do List, and it's up to 5 yellow legal pages long. In the beginning when something would fall through I'd be momentarily exasperated, but it's happened so many times now, I've learned to just add it to the List. I missed commemorating the one-month-to-go landmark, but since even that date is still (sadly) subject to change, I'll leave it be.

We've had many positive developments too. We sold our van and bought a new car, that deserves it's own post. We're halfway done getting the house licensed for renting; and we found a tenant for our home and nearly signed a contract. We're almost done with all the medical visits and immunizations - the rabies shots were brutal. Overall we're on our way, we just can't slow our pace. There are still endless forms to fill out, phonecalls to make, contracts to sign, things to buy, things to sell, things to pack, loose ends to tie up, and farewells to bid. And somehow we have to squeeze in Christmas. Just under 4 weeks to go.