The Art of Leaving

Three days of movers, sixteen days and sixteen nights of hotel living, eight 70 pound suitcases, four head colds, six Christmas parties, a gift that won't fit on the plane, and today we fly away. Time has gone by so fast...too fast. And as always, we've let things go to the end. The last few days have been spent banking, shopping, purging, donating, organizing, and once again packing our lives into eight giant suitcases. All along the way, we've been saying good-bye.

You'd think I'd be good at it, after all, this is number seven. I remember the first big move to Tulsa when David had finally put my bawling body into the car, driven away, only to discover I had left my purse at my Mom's and we had to go back and do the good-byes all over again. That was the worst, and they've all gotten easier since. I worked on my method of departing, trying to lessen the pain. It became pretty easy. Just don't say good-bye.

Not only don't I say the words, I avoid any ritual that might focus on the leaving. No good-bye lunches, drinks, dinners, breakfasts, and for sure no "good- bye parties". I'm elusive on the date of departure, the date of the movers, the kids last day of school, any date that might trigger someone to want to say those dreaded words. I always manage to sneak away in the middle of the night.

On Christmas day, I realized that "good-bye-aphobia" runs in the family. My Aunti Di admitted to hiding in the bathroom when it's time for her daughter to go back to Chicago, and my Aunt Cherie always promises to stop over before we leave and then never shows up. People always say "I'm not going to say good-bye" as if not saying the words will make it not happen, like it's a spell to be cast or not.

I look at each move like un-mooring a ship. From the minute I hear the word "transfer", I start battening down the hatches and preparing the cargo, charting the course for our next destination. What I have failed to do is untie the ropes the that anchor the boat. Instead, the dreaded anchor is inevitably raised, we push away and the ropes strain, fray and eventually, snap.

This move has been different. I'm sitting in this chaotic mess of a hotel room with an amazing sense of calm. The difference is this...I made myself say good-bye. I accepted invitations for dinner, made plans to see friends one last time, and looked people in the eye and told them how much I enjoyed knowing them. I teared up when I went through the bank drive-thru for the last time and thanked the baggers at Publix for all the times they loaded my groceries in the car. I hugged the dentist, my hair dresser and Aidan's bus driver. I took time to talk to people I ran into and told the truth about which day we were leaving. I missed some important people, like my friends at the gym, but they know my life was crazy if I couldn't exercise. This time I untied the knots and let the ropes fall away.

Tomorrow morning we'll wake up in the Southern hemisphere and you'll wake up knowing someone that lives in Brazil. I'll say....good morning summer sun, so long winter chill and I'll try saying something in Portuguese. But most importantly I'll say good-bye friends. I love you, my amazing family. Bon voyage USA. I miss you already.

A Life Less Ordinary

Today I was sitting in the local mall parking lot finishing up my Chic Filet ice cream cone after doing Body Pump, running to Publix, dropping Camryn at school, and returning something to TJ Maxx. I had the moon roof open, windows down, radio playing. A car load of tough looking guys pulled in a few spots over and I heard David's voice in my head telling me to lock the doors, which I did, except that all the windows and the roof were still wide open. I had a fleeting moment of anxiety and then it passed as the gang made their way into the mall, replaced by the full blown fear when I thought about how extraordinary this day would be once we lived in Brazil.

I'm not sure if I'll venture to the local mall. There is no Chic Filet. Do they even have ice cream as we know it? Will anybody have heard of Body Pump? The grocery store will not be our brand new Publix and I won't be able to read the labels. If a tough gang eyes me up and down, it'll probably result in a real robbery. And many cars are made with bullet proof windows that you never roll down.

We're happy to say, that Friday October 15 is the day we fly off to Brazil to figure out what kind of life we're going to make for ourselves. We will be visiting both the city of Sao Paulo and it's suburban Utopian sister of Alphaville. It'll be a world wind tour, visiting three schools, a hospital, grocery stores, shopping malls, parks, and house hunting on top of it. I'm trying to mentally prepare for the slower pace, untimeliness, and general communication break downs I'm sure we'll encounter along the way. Our main goal is to secure a school for the kids on this trip, although we're prepared to negotiate a lease if all goes well.

My biggest stress of the day is what to pack. It's cooler in Sao Paulo right now than it is here, yet it's late spring there. Is it more appropriate to wear knee high boots when it's 90 degrees but Fall, or when it's 65 degrees yet Spring? I may be that woman who packs way too much. Or I may look like that crazy tourist who had no idea she was going South of the Equator.

Finally this blog will have actual pictures taken in Brazil instead of borrowed from the web. I'm typing on my new MacBook Pro and can't to blog every day of our trip.

Until then, I'm going to try to enjoy these ordinary times; of homework in English, Aidan's American football game tonight, chicken and dumplings cooking on the stove and driving around with the windows down on this beautiful Fall day.

To me, these are timeless moments in a life that is about to become anything but ordinary.

The Long Goodbye and the Wedding Planner

"Mom. why can't we stay in Auburn forever? I have the perfect life here." I agree Aidan. Our life here is pretty darn perfect. That's why we have to go to Brazil...so we'll always be able to appreciate "perfect". This was all prompted by Camp Chandler . Or I should say, leaving Camp Chandler after picking Aidan up last weekend. Sometimes the simplest things hit you the hardest, like driving out of Summer camp. For the first time, we said good-bye to something for the last time. We'll be doing a lot of that soon, but last weekend it hit me. We're leaving Auburn forever. So I had my teary eyed moment as we pulled out of the camp gate, and I stopped myself from looking back. Of course I had to lighten the moment by wondering aloud what Summer camp in Brazil would be like. Alligator wrestling, piranha fishing, surfing, samba dancing, coconut hunting? It's hard to let go of what you know in exchange for a strange new world. I only hope a few years from now our family is once again wondering why we can't stay in Sao Paulo forever. I'm hoping we've learned that perfect is anywhere your heart is full and goodbye really means "on to the next".


Enough of the emotional stuff, on to the "Policies and Procedures" of International assignment, to be referred to as P&P and IA going forward.

The corporate machine is droning steadily forward with all the necessary preparations for the move, none of which I need to be concerned about. I'm now referring to the team of human resource personnel, attorneys in both Brazil and the US, insurance companies, tax preparers, and assorted others who are assigned our family as the "Wedding Planners". They do all the work to pull this event off, and we just answer a few questions and show up.

Unfortunately the poor kids had to show up for their International Travel Medical Clearance Exams. When given the whole page of required vaccinations to get clearance, I immediately devised a reward system for good behavior when receiving shots. Then I had to explain what a shot was to Camryn. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. For two days, she was obsessed with what a shot felt like, what a needle was, and why would Dr. Smalley poke her on purpose. The great news is that our US children receive almost every precautionary vaccine in the world and they only had to get a Hepatitis A shot and a TB test. They were so excited about their reward that they yelled "Yay, we get a shot" when the Dr. broke the news. Now David and I need our exams , which I'm sure will involve many more shots and no rewards.

The only other area we've progressed in is applying for school. There's only one school I want the kids to go to, The Graded School of Sao Paulo. You can check it out if you Google it. We've submitted the written applications, but hit a snag when paying the application fee. I just assumed the payment page would have a place for MC, Visa, or American Express. Not so easy- we have to wire money to a bank in NYC which will then deposit the money in a Brazilian account. David has attempted this, but our credit union can't convert to Reals which is the Brazilian currency. David's waiting for confirmation of the exchange rate to complete the transfer. Where's our wedding planner when we need them? Sounds like a money laundering scheme.

As far as a move date? We don't have one yet. Things seem to be moving a little faster though. And whatever you do, don't tell Aidan that when he does go to Summer camp in Brazil he will have to get a Dengue Fever, Yellow Fever, Anti Malarial, more Hep A, along with the usual H1N1. He'll really be missing his perfect camp back in Auburn.

Policies and Procedures

Sorry Oprah...I really wanted to follow your "No Phone Zone", but sometimes you just have to answer your cell in the car. At least David started the conversation with "you may want to pull over before I say what I have to say". I didn't pull over, thinking if he tells me we're not going to Brazil, I might just drive there myself.

After a weekend of list making, researching schools, cleaning closets, and anticipating the house sale, I was pretty on my way to Sao Paulo.

What did he possibly have to say to freak me out?

His company will not navigate our house sale when we leave for Brazil. They WILL do it when we return. So do WE sell the house? NO. The house will remain ours, sit empty, and be taken care of by a caretaker of sorts.

This is a complete shock and hard to digest at first. Yet, after a couple of days, it's a much less stressful option and more financially advantageous. No worrying about the housing market, getting the house ready, showings, storage, selling the cars, where we'll live when the house sells. We'll just pack our clothes, designate the furnishings for Brazil, lock the doors and go. Guess we should have read the policies a little more closely up front. We could have had more fun last weekend.

Crazy problem number two- the American school is full for next year. There are no spots for either child. Next best location is a British school which may have room, but it is very stuffy and we may only apply in person. They'll get one look at us and also have no room. Choice three is a Christian school at the South end of the city, which would be over an hour commute for the kids one way. Fourth option is a Catholic school. We're not Catholic which will place other Catholic applicants above us, not to mention the amount of time devoted to mass everyday. Bottom line is, we have no school for the kids to attend next year, so we're exploring options and crossing our fingers that there will be an large exodus from The Graded School next year.

In spite of all this, we're still extremely excited. All the details will be worked out at some point and until then, we're familiarizing ourselves with Portuguese, although the kids may end up speaking with a British accent.

Brazil or Bust

It's officially unofficial. David got his offer on Friday, but until a moving truck pulls up, I'm still not believing it's happening. WE'RE MOVING TO BRAZIL...in about six months. Time to let it sink in, prepare, sell a house in a stagnant market, learn how to say "I don't speak Portuguese" (or know how to spell it), stock up on supplies, learn to Samba, divide up a household, but not enough time to say goodbye to our great life in Auburn, Alabama.

Today I'm putting this blog out there for all to read, knowing this journey is in the planning stages and about to get very interesting. Having been through several corporate moves through the years, everyday is another question to answer, another form to fill out, another loose end to tie up. As anxious as I am to move on, I'm grateful for the extra time to absorb this first international move in all its complexity. Add to that, a very busy summer schedule, many places in the South I'd still like to visit, and lots of research about Sao Paulo, Brazil ahead of me, I can probably count on a few bottles of medicinal red wine in my future.

So to all our friends and family, apply for your passports, save your money (for expensive airline tickets), get your base tan, loosen up those hips (and attitudes), and come visit us in Brazil. Our doors will be open to everyone. Rio, Copacabana, Ipanema will be in our backyard- the Amazon within reach.

I'm planning on floating my candle off the coast of Rio De Janiero on New Years Eve to thank my God for all the blessings we've received this year.

Twelve years ago, I told my Husband I'd follow him anywhere, but I never knew we'd go so many places together. I subtitled this blog "walking to Brazil and back" because I want to go slowly, to savor this experience like an after dinner walk, and notice small details with every step.

Let the journey begin.

Looking At Life Through Relocation Glasses

We knew this decision wouldn't happen overnight for David's company. Nothing in Corporate America ever does. It's not as simple as deciding that David is right for the job. First of all, this job doesn't currently exist. Second of all, they have no one to replace David here in Alabama. On top of all that, choosing a candidate at his company is like choosing a candidate for the President. Everyone has their "man", their own agenda, and usually favors to pay back. If you make to the end through all that, your approval rating is sky high.

Now we have to WAIT. PATIENTLY. for the Pony Express to deliver the verdict. It's one of those things - if you didn't know you were maybe going to Brazil, you would continue living as normal. When you DO know you may be moving to Brazil, everything you do is distorted through the "if" lens. And I mean everything.

You go to Sam's Club and don't buy the beverage dispenser for this weekends party because you won't be able to take it Brazil. You don't get the trendy haircut because your afraid you won't find a good stylist in Brazil. You don't fill your summer with plans because your Summer may be filled with arrangements for Brazil. Every time you get in your car, you wonder what kind of car you'll drive in Brazil. Every time you clean the toilet, you wonder if someone might do this for you in Brazil. You go to the library and you wonder where you'll get your books in Brazil. You look at the beautiful sunny day and you know it's the same sun that shines on Brazil.

Right now we're living with one foot on the ground in Alabama and the other poised to test the beautiful waters of South America.

We're just waiting for someone to say JUMP. We're so ready to dive in.

This is what I know,

David called to report the latest from his "talks" in Detroit. He is at "Great Lakes Lodge" which used to be known as "Visteon Village", the huge North American Headquarters for his company. It has now been reduced to one building with the others leased out to other large corporations. That's what bankruptcy will do to a company that once had on site dry cleaning, sushi chef, coffee shop... David said it's like a ghost town, with more empty cubicles than occupied.

The job in Brazil sounds as if it is still a possibility. I'm sure we're facing a few weeks of waiting to hear their final decision. Most importantly, David sounds excited about what the job entails. Whoever gets it will have hiring to do right off the bat. I told David that the first hire he should make was an interpreter. It's hard enough to find good help when you speak the same language.

The difficult part for me is all the unknowns. Never having a foreign assignment before, we don't the first thing about preparing our family for this type of move. Worse is that we don't know how we will live in Brazil. Will his company provide tuition for school, an adequate or generous living allowance, are we expected to employ domestic help? If need be, who will help us negotiate all these things? Not to mention learning Portuguese. I'm such a planner that I'm devising a plan for what I might need to plan.

Oh well... when David asked what I thought of all this last night, I told him I was ready.

I cut all the backs out of my bikini bottoms and threw the tops away. How much more ready for Brazil can you get?

Hands of Fate

I've spent two days searching for this rumpled piece of yellow legal pad paper. I always kept it in my lingerie drawer and was shocked when it wasn't there. The last time I read it was October of 2007 when we were packing to move to Alabama into the seventh house of our marriage. I'm desperate to read it once again, because the words came to me from a much bigger place.

I think the year was 2003. I had a twenty minute session with Bob Fontanive from Psychic Search. All the crazy ladies in my family thought it would be fun to have a party of sorts, hire a psychic, drink some wine, and find out about futures. Bob told us not to expect our fortunes, to write down as much of what he said as we could because much of it would make no sense, but it would someday.

This is what I remember to be written on my paper.

"Your son is very bright and will struggle with beautiful people in his life."

"You and your husband will be on the water and your children will be waving to you."

"You will not die of Cancer."

"You will visit South America for a long duration, not for pleasure, for business, within the next ten years."

This is why I want to find that paper. Each one of these statements has come to fruition, or at least I think they will after this week.

Aidan my son is extremely bright and the beauty will probably come at him in the form of girls some day.

I had waited for the water thing to happen and then realized it did when David and I were body boarding together and our friends were on shore with the kids waving. It was a day when David and I felt like kids again and was an AHA moment for me...have more fun in life.

I did have cancer and I survived.

Lastly, David is in Detroit today talking about an assignment in Sau Paulo, Brazil.

I want to hold that paper in my hands and read those words verbatim. I want to believe that what is written will happen. I want to go to Brazil and see my Husband achieve another major goal in his career. I want to show my kids that there's a big world out there and we're just a tiny speck on it. I'm ready for the challenge of overcoming language barriers, bureaucracy, and strange lands. My life has gotten too comfortable.

If we get the international assignment, you will be reading this. If we don't, I'll delete the blog and the daily grind will go on.

Some people believe that fate can be left in the hands of others. Some believe we control our own destiny. When I wrote the psychics notes all those years ago, I pictured myself standing on a beach, watching the surf, drinking from a coconut, my children's hands wrapped around my legs. I hope I sealed my fate that day, visualized my future. I hope my family will travel and learn together.... and I hope to share the entire experience on this blog.

Only the hands of time will tell.