Starting to sink in

In a couple of months, St Louis would have been our home for five years. And our little boy Ben who was just a 2.5-month-old baby when we came here, is the first to miss this place already.

It happened over dinner, when Vern had to let him and Jon know we would have to give Josh and Mr C up for adoption. Josh and Mr C are our two hermit crabs I took the boys to the pet shop to buy last summer. Never mind Jon and Ben admitted that they hardly took care of them. That was when the crying started, and Ben bawled his eyes out.

But it wasn't just about the little critters.

"I will miss my friends...

"I will miss my school...

"Can we bring our house, too?"

Every tear, every word struck a chord in me. I went to hold Ben, hold him close; Ben who is the feeling one, our warm little guy who'd come up and squeeze you tight even if he'd just met you.

Change is not easy, and I'm not a change person myself. And as I went and laid my head on the pillow last night, it's beginning to sink in for me also. Then, this morning, when I opened my mailbox, my heart sank, reading a reply from an old buddy back home that I have just shared this latest news of the family and me preparing to move to WA.

There are good reasons for heading back to Singapore. But with no job, and the current job freeze at the place there with the best fit for Vern, a lot of it is also about timing and opportunities. Being there at the right place, at the right time, among other things to consider.

I blogged about the stressful job search awhile back, and for how buried I am in everyday stuff, did not go into the nitty gritty and did what I could to be the supportive wife. Also because for how bad the economy is, it's a tough environment out there still, there was the very scary and real possibility of not having any outcome at the end of the rigorous process.

We prayed, and so thankful for people who prayed for us, and we waited. And the doors opened.

Isn't life full of the choices we make? The decisions to a large extent are what form our lives. And I'm here today, doing what I do now as an at-home mom and housewife, not the working mother I used to be back home, because of a choice I made. And I give it my best, there are the challenges, and the good Lord takes cares of the rest.

So it will be with moving on, and we will do our best to make it work, for us and for our children. But don't think I am not sad, too, and I know my father is especially so, that we will still be halfway across the globe from him and other loved ones and dear friends such as you.

This is what I wrote back to my pal, and I write it here also because great friendships are so hard to come by:

Please do not stop being in touch with me. I cherish our friendship, and yours being here for me. I know it's going to be hard, but I look forward to being able to meet up again when either of us can visit each other soon.

In the meantime, we still have much to do, much to prepare for what lies ahead.