DE FRUTA MADRE: And Life Goes On

I intentionally do not allow myself to become disgusted that I have not contributed to this blog in such a long time. At times I choose Ellen videos (I will admit it proudly!), Penguins of Madagascar cartoons, walks around the barrio, podcasts or house chores instead. I may journal or read, and have been to antique stores, flea markets, musicals and art museums, but truly most of my free time is spend doing unglamorous activities such as laundry, grocery shopping or cleaning. (Spaniards are clean, and the pressure to follow suit is worth mentioning. They mop IN FRONT OF their house every day, for crying out loud.) Whatever the moment, I just cannot bring myself to write when I’m not into it. But I do have things to tell. (“Oh, boy-howdy” surfaces to my brain; I’m not quite sure why and I occasionally doubt what I say in English any more. Tonight I called an umbrella a rainbow, as in “Can you please hold the rainbow for a moment?“ and I could not think of a better word for the life of me.) A wise and dear friend of mine who blogs told me, "Remember, life goes on" in reference to the fact that you may leave behind some worthwhile information that is "blog-worthy", but that you have to continue looking forward or you might lose your marbles. And I have resigned to this reality. BUT STILL-

I never quite got around to talking about the time that our kind, dear friends Marina and Luis planned a surprise weekend, picked us up after a 4 hour drive, to drive one more hour with us and a car full of groceries to the amazing house they rented for us in the mountains. It was such a gift to have someone take care of us, to not have to make the plans, to be with this lovely family, play cards, picnic in the woods. This simple act of great kindness will forever be dear and memorable.

I never quite got around to writing about how some times it has been hard, how I’ve felt lonely and had to really focus on why I’m here (so kids will learn Spanish and the culture, broaden their horizons, mentality, skill set) in order to stay grounded. The other day my friends for their own good reasons did not let me take their dog with me to the park, and I was surprised at my disappointment! Most of my friends are in Salamanca, and the friends here in Madrid have their lives, their jobs, their responsibilities and their kilometers that are not always compatible with mine. I love that damn dog and the companionship he offers and I proudly admit it; I missed his excitement, his obvious willingness to spend time with me. Because I have to pick the boys up at 12:30 (with lunch already started), return them at 2:30 and pick them up at 4:30, I don’t have big blocks of time that allow for fun visits. If I do get together with friends after school, I find myself staying later than I would in the States, pushing back our bedtime in order to take advantage of that time with others. In Montana, my social life is active and full and I am not accustomed to feeling lonely, but the loneliness I experience here has allowed me to appreciate my boys even more - something I didn’t know was possible.

I never quite got around to writing about meeting my dear friend’s son that I hadn’t seen since he was a baby, how delightful it was to see him after nearly five years, how proud I am of my friend for his efforts to be in his son’s life. How I also met the delightful friends who allow he and his son to stay at their house, rent-free, every other weekend so that they can be together. At least twice a month, Jose takes the high-speed train to Valencia, then rents a car to drive the remaining hour to the pueblo where his son lives. They go to lunch at their favorite restaurant (I will attest it is INCREDIBLE: Kayuko ), walk to the beach, go back home for a nap, relax together.

I never quite got around to writing about how we decided at 5 PM on Friday to leave for Prague the very next day and how wonderful that trip was. My mom’s cousin has lived there for 3 years, and I had not spent any time with her as an adult, outside of a quick hour in an airport. It was a wonderful, satisfying, fun and PERFECT trip and it felt so great to connect with such a generous and kind family member.

I never quite got around to writing about our trip to the cookie factory, how a worker broke the rules and gave Atticus a piece of dough, unaware how much that meant to this kid who cannot facilitate interactions with others as he would at home. How the kindness of the kids struck me and filled me with wonder. They gave Atticus hugs, they sat by him on the bus, they encouraged him. And he said nothing. 3 near-mute months, and they have not given up on him. How they ALL cheered when 2 girls who are best friends got to be partners. How wonderful they were to each other and to me. Not one child was teased, excluded, maltreated; every person not just respected but accepted. (photos to come as soon as I can find some WiFi.)

I never quite got around to writing about how Hugo decided to get to work in class, to make an real effort, to fully integrate. How his entire class now calls him “Hugy” (oo-ghee) thanks to his best friend Diego. How Diego’s family invited us over for a play date where we met the caliber of people that foster toddlers when they already have 3 children of their own. How 10 children ran around a 3 bedroom apartment, brandishing plastic weapons, riding scooters and constantly taking toys away from the puppy WITHOUT A SINGLE PROBLEM IN THREE HOURS.

I never quite got around to writing about the thrill of being able to walk almost entirely pain-free after almost 4 months. How the Retiro Park has been a godsend and how I have chosen to have a positive perspective about my weight gain. I injured myself in a dance class - a double bummer because I absolutely LOVED the class and I was feeling really great about an alternative to running that was fun, convenient and increased my heart rate. Although I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone to suffer from plantar fasciatis, the therapy that resulted taught me to re-learn how to walk again in a way that will benefit me in the long run and perhaps even allow me to run again someday. It was a first step in a journey that will most-certainly end up in a better physical place when all is said and done. (Thank you, Axis PT!)

I never quite got around to writing about how much I miss my husband, my family, my friends, my pets, my home, my neighborhood, my community, my valley. How I have loved getting to better know my friends here and life in a big city. How people truly are the same everywhere you go. How no matter where you end up, life is what you make of it. And sometimes it takes a little effort to remind ourselves how truly fortunate we are, but life is exactly about having that choice.

Live on, friends.