My life is pretty predictable at present. (Except for Caleb's naps. They are not, nor have ever been, predictable.) I am a stay-at-home mom, and my life follows a pretty regular routine. I like routines, so that doesn't bother me. This winter has been tough, because the cold has kept me indoors more than I would normally prefer. In fact, due to the cold in January (and a temporary car seat issue), I hardly stepped foot outside the house. The word "hermit" came to my mind a few times throughout the month, but it was all for the good of Caleb. I would brave cold temperatures, but if I don't have to take my baby out, why do so?
I'm very limited in where I can go here in the Poconos. There simply isn't much that is close, and it can be a pain in the neck to drag Caleb out an hour away. So my world sometimes seems... very small. Without family here, nor many friends, there are no visits from mom or sis. It can get lonely.
I remember another time in my life, so vastly different than what I experience now. I had just traveled to Prague, Czech Republic at the end of August 2005. Talk about exciting! At first, however, it was quite lonely and wrought with culture shock. I taught in a public school, and I had 17 classes and some 240 students. It was overwhelming, to say the least, but it stretched me. Gradually, the loneliness faded and the shock wore off.
I traveled a lot that year. I saw a handful of other countries while I was there, and I grew accustomed to sitting on trains while traveling from one country to the next. Mostly I traveled with my teammates, but a couple of times I traveled alone. I remember one time, I was coming home (or I should say- back to Prague) from somewhere (and I honestly can't remember where, perhaps Poland), and my train got delayed. We had to stop on the tracks for some reason, and I sat and chatted with a nice couple from the UK while we waited. As the time went on and on, I worried about making my next connection. This nice couple kept trying to encourage me, and when the conductor came by to give us an update, the gentleman to whom I had been conversing asked him about my connection to Prague. The conductor said something like, "Oh, Prague. That could be a problem," and left without another word. Yikes! When my stop approached, I remember the gentleman helping me with my bags so that I could be ready to spring from the train at the first instant, which I did. I ran as if for life! If I didn't, I didn't know how much longer I'd have to wait! Sleeping overnight at a train station, by myself in a foreign country, was not an appealing prospect.
Thankfully, I ran like the wind and breathlessly made the next train. I think that, it too, had been momentarily delayed. I felt so relieved to collapse, finally, in my seat and head toward my home away from home.
I think about that year in Prague from time to time. All the travels, the people I met, the students I taught, the kindness of strangers who helped out a foreigner. The man who carried my heavy suitcase up a flight of stairs because it was far too heavy for me, the women on the train who told me in no uncertain terms that I had to get off right then to transfer to the next train to get to Krakow. (My ticket said otherwise, but they were, in fact, right.) I saw one beautiful sight after another: castles, bridges, ancient town squares, charming markets. I taught many students, but one class I came to particularly love, and I left part of my heart behind with those darling students. It was a year I will never forget.
Life now doesn't require trains, planes, buses, or trams. I don't get out very much, and if I do, the grocery store and Walmart don't really register very high on the "exciting" barometer. Sometimes, I think that was another girl all together. But those memories are still with me; they have added to the person that I now am. Life may be more mundane, but it is no less important, in fact, it is even more so. I have a little companion to keep me company, and his smiles and his giggles are just as awe-inspiring as those ancient, magnificent castles.
I loved life then, and I love it now. In truth, I love it even more. Give me my husband and my son any day; they are both my adventure and my safe, assuring reality. I wouldn't trade them for the world.
