The long and winding road...leads back home

As I cycled up Beach Road the other morning, a smile spread across my face at the sight of the Melbourne skyline over a sunny Port Phillip bay.  I jolted a bit when the Spirit of Tasmania, the boat we left on 18 months ago, came into view.  I expected to feel let down that our big trip was over, but instead I felt my shoulders relax. We never expected to return as a family of three, but that makes it all the sweeter to nestle back in to a new home and the warmth of our friends.

We finished the trip with a quick lap around the US.  While we anticipated that 2.5 months would allow us plenty of time for a quality visit with everyone, instead it felt like a series of sprints.  Still, it's longer than we'll have in the US at any time in the foreseeable future.  

We flew into Florida, bought a car while staying at my parents' house, and then hop scotched up to the Pacific Northwest, crossing through 15 states and staying in eight along the way.  We were understandably apprehensive about disrupting Genevieve's settled daily routine and dragging her on some long-haul drives, but her ability to adapt was one of the key lessons we learned.  In fact, each stage of the trip through the US proceeded more smoothly than anticipated (not that I'm keen to travel cross country with a baby again soon).

Happy family on the flight over - After a rough night in Perth and being awake for the first 12 hours of the trip, Genevieve slept for almost nine hours in her airplane bassinet.

First stop was my parents house, which included new adventures on the sailboat and in the water.

My sister, Martha, and her partner, Dylan, generously drove down from Atlanta for a week.  G loved staring at her Auntita...and Purple, the dog.  We also had visits from my Great-Aunt Alexis, who DROVE down from Chicago just to see little ol' us, and my  Aunt Jane and Uncle Ricky, who were still brave enough to open their home to us (and the whole, crazy Tye and Perdue clans) in Texas.

The Nugget, our 2006 Focus Hatchback, barely had time for this little nugget once it was fully loaded.

After a quick pit stop in Texas to see the extended family, we cruised up to Nebraska to see Eric's parents.  His sister, Toni, graciously spent her vacation time visiting us there and got some great photos of this little peanut.

Lots of love from Grandma and Grandpa Boesiger, who got us out and about on so many nice outings.  It was great to see where they've retired to, which is a lovely little town just outside of Omaha.  As expected, they've quickly involved themselves in everything from the local school district to the volunteer-run recycling centre.

Loving a Nebraska parade

Pool time in Nebraska

As we crossed the country, we were struck by the simple beauty of so many drives we expected to be desolate.  Whether Kansas, Oklahoma, Utah, or Wyoming, there are some stunning places in the US...once you get past the strip malls and big box stores.

A week in Colorado let us visit many old friends, although never for long enough.  You know you have good friends when you can turn up after nine years and enjoy their company like you never left.

Justine performed our wedding ceremony, and she's still the model for how to live your life well.

As we crossed into eastern Oregon, I recognised a place name on the map: Baker City.  Wasn't that where my sister, Angela, was finishing her final rotation?  A quick text confirmed that we were only a couple of hours from seeing her, instead of a week, and it happened to be her last day of her last rotation.  How lucky were we to get to celebrate with her???  After dinner, we topped the evening with a growler and a round of mini-golf at our motel.

From Baker City, we raced through some quick visits in Seattle before driving down to Portland for Angela's big graduation from PA school.  Given the selectivity of admissions for PA programs, the fact that her program was something like #6 our of 186 in the country, and the crazy hours she's put in studying and completing rotations in all types of medicine over the past two years, I was overwhelmed to be part of the big day.  I cried at several points during the ceremony; I was just so proud of Angela, both of my sisters really.  They are so accomplished.  I guess I was used to being the big sister for so long that I never realised that one day I'd have more to learn from them than the other way around.

Quick crabbing trip to Newport, OR

My dad, goofing around with Martha and Melephant (mouse + elephant)

After a week of graduation excitement in Portland with the whole Tye family, we headed up to Eric's dad's house outside Seattle.  Genevieve began learning to crawl at Grammi and Poppy's with a little extrinsic motivation (Puffs!)  As ever, Mark and Anne made our visit so relaxing and enjoyable.  They even took care of Genevieve so that we could get out to the cinema, for a walk along the river, and to dinner for our wedding anniversary.  Now that we've been married for eight years, I barely feel the need to throw in that we've been together for 12.  It feels like we've grown up together either way.

It was a bit circuitous, but after visiting Mark and Anne, we headed back to Portland.  Eric flew home to get our van, Turquey, back across the Nullarbor, to start work, and to find us a place to live, while Genevieve and I stayed on for a glorious three weeks with Angela and Dylan.  Our best times in Portland were spent hanging in the back yard.  

Lots of nekkid time in Portland

We accompanied Angela on a two-night trip to Central Oregon for her final interview in the emergency department of a hospital system where she completed two rotations.  She obviously s-nailed it since she starts work there, at a significantly higher starting salary than ANY of her classmates, in January.  It wouldn't be a trip with Angela if we hadn't fit in a short hike at Smith Rock, climber's paradise.

Who needs a bathtub?

Japanese Gardens in Portland - by far the best I've visited outside of Japan

Genevieve enjoys pancakes made with fresh-picked blueberries as Alpine patiently waits to see what she drops

Martha and Uncle D-C flew back out to Portland to collect The Nugget and drive her back across the country to Atlanta.  Genevieve so loved all of the time she got to spend with her aunties.

Genevieve's first camping (and wild mushroom foraging) trip with Angela and Dylan's friends, Aaron and Marissa.  I was concerned she wouldn't sleep, which she didn't during the day, but it was another great stretch experience.  Now I can't wait to get her out camping again.

Columbia River Gorge

Angela and Dylan were the consummate hosts on this trip.  For a week during her graduation, my parents, Martha, and our little family were there, leaving her and Dylan to camp out in the backyard.  Then they let Genevieve and I stay for another three weeks while Eric got things sorted back in Oz.  God knows a baby and a militant mummy don't make ideal house guests, but they were accommodating whilst making sure we experienced the best that Portland had to offer. 

It's hard not knowing when we'll get extended visits with our families again, and at times I feel horribly guilty and sad for distancing myself (and now Genevieve) from them.  But while we enjoyed every stage of the trip more than we expected, it also confirmed our decision to remain in Australia.

Maybe it's having been gone for six years now, or maybe it's getting Australian citizenship and emotionally committing to our new home, but we define the US less and less and Australia more and more as "home".  I suppose we're destined to feel a little "other" in either country for the rest of our lives, but while our ties to the US are relationships and roots, our ties to Australia are values-based.

In Australia, we don't have to worry about Genevieve being a victim of a school shooting or cinema massacre.  We won't ever be bankrupted by medical expenses.  Employers have to pay a fair wage and contribute to retirement and paid time off for every employee.  Yes, everything from our hamburgers to our houses cost more, but maybe that's why the pervading sense of consumer culture you get in the US is somewhat tamped down in Australia.  Your value here isn't defined by how much you work or how much you make; work-life balance is more than just a recruiting buzz word.  People actually feel that it's a right and a necessity to spend time outdoors and with their families.

That's not to say that the US isn't a great country; it's just that maybe I'm happier with good than with great.

Will we ever pass this way again? (Does it matter?)

4 km waddle

Post-ride debrief at Swings with the Dirt(y) Fairies

Sunset on our balcony

Oscar the wonder dog

Our little furnished apartment

Family beach day

Thanksgiving feast

Yoga in the park - note the giant banana leading us in song

When I was eight years old, my parents woke me up early on the first day of Spring Break and told me we were going to Disneyland.  After I figured out this wasn't just cruel humour, I was vibrating with excitement.  While the trip was everything I could have hoped, it was the first time I remember thinking about how temporary my enjoyment was and how important it was to capture every moment.  Not in a positive way, but in an anxious, not-quite-normal way.

Since then, I've remained obsessed with how fleeting good times are, trying to capture or extend them beyond their natural duration.  If I enjoy something, I want to make it a regular part of my routine, only to find out on repetition that some of the magic is gone. 

I started thinking about this today as Genevieve and I enjoyed a coffee at the Brew Shack.  It was a perfect early winter afternoon, too cold for the park but perfect for sitting on their lumpy sofa with a warm drink cooing at the sunbeams.  I immediately thought, "We should come here every day at this time!" and was then slapped in the face with the reality of our departing Margaret River next week.

Why is it that I wasted any of those golden moments worrying about the fact that once they passed they were gone forever?  When Eric and I were leaving Colorado, I was desperately worried we would never have such a perfect life together again.  Ditto Minnesota.  Ditto Cronulla.  Ditto Melbourne.  Surely even I should begin to detect a pattern; life only seems to get better, in large part because it doesn't stay the same.

Is it because we moved so much when I was growing up that I anxiously grasp at permanence?  My similarly afflicted youngest sister, Piglet, declared everything that happened more than once to be a "tradition".  Seriously, you had to be careful not to use the toilet at the same time two days in a row around that kid.  Or is it just a personality flaw not to be able to realise how fortunate I am during those best moments?  And is our culture trending more and more in that direction, with the need to document our activities in photos on Facebook and narcissistic, self-obsessed blogs (natch)?  

I read back over my entries for this past year's travels recently, and there were definitely fond memories that would already have been lost forever if I hadn't documented them.  Does that mean they would have been less worthwhile or would have added less to my life, particularly if I missed some other golden moments squirreled away in the van scribbling them down?

As I stared down at Genevieve's mesmerized face this afternoon, I knew one thing for sure.  She lives in every moment (and then forgets it).  She'll never be  6 months, 2 weeks, and 1 day old again.  She's a new person every 72 hours at the moment, so if I don't enjoy each moment for what it is, I should be slapped.  I have found that to be a big lesson she's taught me: sometimes the magic moments are brief and followed immediately with shit (often literally), so I'd better revel in them when they come.  I had to box up the anxiety about never being at the Brew Shack at 3:18 pm again and go back to nibbling on her tiny toes.