It's a strange time. As we pass the two week mark- it's an in between time. I can really start to see our life in Maine again- our house, our friends, my colleagues, the lake. But there is still life here. End of school activities for the kids- a summer fair for Frida, a graduation (of sorts) party for Benno. class trips - the list feels full. I approach these events cautiously, feeling hesitant to engage with others with one foot so firmly already out the door. People who are happy in Berlin, have chosen to make a life for themselves here, who express surprise at our decision, they stir my own fear that we are not making the right choice. I imagine that I am more afraid of returning to Maine than I was was when we moved to Berlin, but I can't guarantee that's true. Maybe it's because I have never returned to the same place. I've always hopped along on a linear line- this circling back feels strange. There's no excitement of new things to balance the fear. Or perhaps it's because the world feels scarier to me than it did 2 years ago, full of uncertainty. The U.S. is a shit show, so I keep my blinders firmly on and focus on our community and all of the good people who live there.
There's a phase in any big transition where your heart and mind begin to spend more time in the place you are going than where you are, and that is where I am beginning to be. It's natural but sad because it means I have less time left here than I thought. I haven't been taking many pictures these days, but I will make an effort to be here as much as I can and make as many photos as I can until we leave.
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We are gearing up to leave Berlin. A stressful, emotional time in the best of circumstances. And these are not the best of circumstances. Frida lost one of her closest friends back home 2 weeks ago. A lovely girl who meant so much to so many. Her death leaves such a hole in the lives of all who knew her and in our community back in Maine. It is hard not to fall into a pit of sadness, to feel that our time in Berlin has been bookended by hard and devastating times. To wonder what the point of coming here was, or the point of anything for that matter. To focus on all of the goodbye's that are ahead for Frida and Benno as they wind up their school year here and to ache for putting them through that again. To let fear and uncertainty take control. But despite the overwhelming sadness there is a sweetness. The touching outpouring of love and concern for our family and especially for Frida from our friends back in Maine. The incredible and boundless love and support of the community for the family of Frida's lovely friend. A visit from our closest friends at a difficult time to just be with us and hold us up a little bit. The memories of Frida's friend's visit to us here in Berlin last year. The knowing that we are not alone in our grief.
When we were faced with hard news six weeks after arriving in Berlin, Frida's friend's mom reached out to me and suggested I read the book, When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron. It helped me then and I have pulled it out again these last few days not unaware of how things have completely and utterly fallen apart for the sweet woman who suggested it to me. Even as I write this, I have the uncomfortable feeling that this isn't my story to tell, not my grief to share, but I feel such a strong connection to her. To all of the mothers of Frida's close circle of friends whose daughters are grieving, whose families are grieving. I am grateful for that feeling of connection and hang on to it as we make our way home. |
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