About 6 years ago, I was approached by a Japanese woman to start an English conversation class for Japanese moms and their toddlers. The women had come to the U.S. with their husbands, who work for the car companies here. Most of the women had not been to the U.S. before and had little confidence in their English ability. All of the women had children under the age of 2. We attempted many kinds of structure, but in the end with 4 children under the age of 2 and all of us moms exhausted from caring for them, we settled into a routine of just chatting. We covered so many topics- how to make a return to a store, how to get your meat cut "paper thin", how to pick a preschool and one time how to call 911 when your husband is out of town for 2 weeks on a business trip. Over time Star and I no longer called our afternoons together "English lessons" but we said, "We are going to visit with our Japanese friends." We met once a week, always adjusting for naps, visiting family and vacations. It was a financial arrangement. These ladies paid me by the lesson and over time it became very strange to me to take their money. I watched the toddlers turn into preschoolers and then Kindergarteners. Star developed deep friendships despite the language barrier and the cultural differences. I watched bellies grow as some of the women had their second child. And then the changes started. One by one my original "Japanese friends" were transferred to California or back to Japan as their husbands' companies moved them. But thankfully for me, new Japanese friends took their place. I met one mom at a birthday party. One mom came in to visit the school where I taught. Another mom heard about our group from a member. Our group grew and changed organically. But don't get me wrong, every good bye was tough. These ladies were as much a part of my weekly routine as milk delivery, as Sunday church, as my favorite TV show. We shared so much and spent so many hours talking that sometimes I felt I knew them better than my "chosen friends". They were going off on their next adventure, but I was the one that drove past their old house and the one who was left with the missing feelings.
On Saturday, I said good bye to yet another one of my Japanese friends. Her family is moving back to Japan, so when we return from India they will be gone. The kids all said goodbye to each other, the men said goodbye, and then I shared a hug- our first hug- with a dear friend. I think I saw tears in her eyes, but she quickly turned away. I, too, had tears in my eyes but quickly smiled. This is the way of travelers. Traveling is fun. Traveling is exciting. But sometimes traveling is sad. It means letting go of one good thing to try and reach for another thing, hoping you discover it goodness before your excitement and sense of adventure wears off.
Many folks around here have outwardly said, "We are going to miss you." And I have to remind myself to say it right back, "We are going to miss you, too." Right now we are in excitement mode. Adventure mode. Ready to take off and reach for the next thing. The girls don't know this, but Marvel and I do, that this feeling is going to wear off. I am guessing that about 3 or 4 months into our India experience I am going to want to come home. I will miss my friends. I will be too far away from my family. The ways of India are no longer going to be exciting and different, they will be confusing and absurd. It is then that I will recall our chats and our last hugs and I will wish I could go back to that moment when you said, "We are going to miss you," so that I can look you right in the eye and with all my heart say, "I am going to miss you, too."
