This is my grandmother Lucy and her best friend Eleanor. They met as neighboring young brides with growing families when they both lived for a short time in Rockville, Maryland. More kids arrived, jobs changed and they both moved away. Jobs continued to change and children grew up. About fifteen years later, they found themselves living as neighbors again – and this is where they’d each remain – in Annapolis, Maryland. Over the years, they shared crab feasts, backyard BBQs, family birthday parties, boat trips on the Chesapeake Bay, bridge games, books and conversation…lots and lots of conversation. They held each other as each of their husbands passed away and when their own bodies began to fail in different ways, they supported and cheered each other on through medical scares and adjustments. This year, they separately moved into the same retirement home so they could get extra care and that meant they got to see each other at meals, Bingo and sometimes just for a quiet afternoon chat. Turned out, though, that my grandmother Lucy, the younger of the two, needed a little more care than that home provided so she recently moved into a skilled nursing home an hour’s drive away. They are both in their late 90s; this picture is their goodbye hug before Lucy moved out – likely their last goodbye.
Oh, that I should be so lucky to keep my girlfriends as close as Lucy and Eleanor were able to keep each other. I’m only 44 and I’ve all but finished raising my kids. The days of meeting other moms on the Saturday morning soccer sideline are done. Those long sunny Friday afternoons playing in the street that rolled into two families heating up all the week’s leftovers we had in the fridge, laying them on a shared table and calling it “Picka-Picka,” are finished. No more, You take the kids after school today and I will take them tomorrow exchanges, or Can you take my kids out for ice cream tonight because I have to work and am worried about leaving them on their own. Now, girlfriend time is just that – time I can spend alone with my girlfriends.
I’ve started listening to a new podcast series by one of my favorite writers, Jen Hatmaker. Her podcast, “For the Love,” began with a series called, “For the Love of Girlfriends.” As I walked my dog in the rain this morning, I heard Jen say into my ear buds, “I invest heavily in my girlfriends.”
I felt tears spring up as her words landed somewhere tender in me. Because, I. Love. My. Girlfriends. That same tender spot was activated a few weeks ago when my business coach ventured a little more into life coaching. She asked me to think of this upcoming work season and consider all I wanted to achieve and receive and try to boil it down to one word that could serve as an intention. “Friendship,” I answered. “I want to lean into my gift of friendship.” “Joy,” she replied, “You are friendship – it’s what you do naturally. What you are saying is you want to be more of your true self this season.” YES! It turns out, my Girlfriends, we are linked in my heart. To be a better me, I need to be a better friend to you.
Life, though, with its supersonic speedy ride, throws so much in the path of “investing heavily.” I need more sleep than ever before and the older I get, the more time I seem to need to regroup alone. The extroverted me is asking, who is this new introvert moving in? I need more time to spend with my parents and my almost-adult children, and my marriage – like all the other ones – is an organic force that needs care and tending as well. Plus, I work, like, all the time and run out of hours and energy every day. How can I slice a fatter pie piece called friendship?
I’ve learned from moving abroad, and by traveling constantly, that it’s real work to maintain friendships and that work has to be taken seriously. Similar to the work of marriage, it’s best and most successfully done when both parties believe it’s 100% their job to do the reaching-out and initiating. Anybody waiting around for a text, or thinking, “You know, I am always the one to call. Let’s see how long it takes her to call me this time,” is sunk. Memories are too faulty for us to play those tit-for-tat games. I am “here two weeks and gone for two months” in most of the friendships I currently have, and those are with the friends I am lucky enough to live near or visit regularly. My Lucy- and Eleanor-style friends – the ones I’ve nurtured for many years – I see once in a blue moon as I’m passing through a city nearby, or we schedule a long Face Time catch-up when we can. One of my besties and I trade lengthy emails often, and when we reply, we interrupt each other’s paragraphs with different colored fonts so that it reads like we are interjecting into a live conversation. Another friend takes me grocery shopping or does it for me if I cannot tag along. While I was typing this, she dropped off two bags and we stood outside my gate laughing so hard at random things that we had tears streaming. Just after she pulled away she sent a message, “That was just what I needed today,” and of course it was soul-lifting for me too. Another friend leaves me voicemails regularly and asks “How can I best pray for you today?” Another lives five hours from where my eldest is experiencing a hurricane from her college dorm room and texted last night to say, “Can I go scoop her up?” When I was in labor with that child I passed that friend’s apartment and my husband stopped and beeped during a contraction. Our connections runs deep. Another makes eyebrow-threading appointments for me whenever I am in her town – even if we are off schedule from each other. She just comes to sit with me while I do the upkeep because she recognizes how busy I am and what a gift the hour of conversation is to me. Recently a friend moved into my home for a few weeks as she transitions to a new life and she makes me laugh every single day, usually through bitmogi. She’s a bitmogi ninja. Three other friends book a lunch reservation together whenever I can come. I know they cancel plans and move things around and always go to my favorite places because I don’t live in their town anymore and they know I miss the food and their company so much. I can’t begin to list the friends who have opened their guestrooms or kicked their kids out of bedrooms to host me overnight or overweek during the last four years – it’s too many to number. Investing heavily can look a lot of different ways, and I am a lucky gal.
I don’t have high standards for friendship, honestly. At least not in the beginning – I’ll give almost any woman a chance to see if we have the spark. This has been a useful mindset through an international move for sure, but it’s enhanced my entire life. Obviously it doesn’t work out with everyone, but it has afforded me a *very* diverse set of friends. Random ages, with/without kids, married and single girlfriends, various or no religions, working and non-working, American and everything else. It stays interesting.
Here’s what I look for in a friendship that will stand the test of time:
The Best of You. I don’t need you to be my Best Friend; I’ll find the best in you and I’ll offer you the best of me. We don’t need to align on everything and you don’t need to be my end all to all end alls. Maybe you are my writing buddy or the one who holds my whispered marriage stories or the one who will get me through the years of caring for elderly parents. Maybe I can be your shopping or lunching friend or I can sit in the hospital with you while your baby is getting diagnosed, or help you house-hunt. Don’t feel the need to meet all my needs, just bring your best self and know I’ll bring mine.
The Real Stuff. I’ve been told I’m a tad more comfortable sharing the tough stuff and getting vulnerable than the average gal and I try to keep that in mind and go slowly. It’s hard because the times I’ve chosen to dive in deep with someone new have mostly paid off and I see no reason to wait. I don’t need you to bare your soul, but I do need to be real myself. And I need to know you can handle it. You may not be a God person, but you gotta know I’ll share my faith journey with you. You may hold your parenting fears close like cards, but you’ll hear a lot of my worries about my kids.
We’ve gotta be on the same team. There are enough people in the world transacting, posing, one-upping, competing and manipulating. I’ve got no time for that in a friendship and I don’t think you do either. If something about me brings up an insecurity in you, or something in your past has taught you that women are meant to be jockeying with each other, we can either talk about it frankly or move on from each other.
I can do the group friendships, but I love the one-on-ones more. I really love parties. I’ve built my whole career around them, for goodness’ sake. And I love to throw my own birthday party as many years as I can. I fill the room and introduce my friends to each other. The connector in me comes to life in groups. Those long tables filled with laughing women make great memories, and they are the perfect place to include newcomers, but know that I’ll look for time to be alone with you too. Alone we can discover together what we can share and what we can be to each other. And groups can bring out a different dynamic sometimes… one that doesn’t foster the kind of friendships I want. A few times I’ve learned I could be an individual friend with a particular woman, but I needed to avoid her in groups.
Laughter. You don’t need to be my personal comedian, but we’ve got to find a way to laugh together. Laughter heals me and hits the reset button. I can get through almost any stressful thing if I can find someone to laugh along the way with me.
Grace given easily. I’ll freely give it and I’ll need it too. I can’t have grudges in a friendship and I need to know no one is keeping score. I’m certainly not. If I’ve hosted you for dinner more than you’ve hosted me, know I am not tracking it and I’m likely finding that you are giving to me in some other way. Remember that part of my giving you my best? It doesn’t always appear as Even Stevens. There’s no tally pad in my heart. And I’ll likely come up short if there is one in yours.
Listening, especially to the hard things. I like to hear the whole thing. The whole story. All your feelings and thoughts. I’ve worked hard to become a good listener and I am cued up, waiting for you. I went through a rough patch a long time ago and I just couldn’t seem to move past it. I needed to reiterate and revisit the hurt and each time I verbally went through it, I learned something new about myself. As time went on, that experience provided much-needed personal growth. But while it was happening, it was hard and miserable. A close friend offered to be my listener. “You never have to apologize for repeating yourself with me. I’ll listen to the story as many times as you need to tell it.” Ever since, I’ve tried to be to others what she was to me.
Recently, I was sitting in church next to a new-ish friend and she leaned over and whispered, “Hey, do you think sometime we could just, like, talk?” I looked up and saw some brimming tears. “Now,” I replied. I grabbed her hand and exited the pew immediately. You know what I felt? Honored. Hopeful. Ready. When a woman leans into me and makes a bid for a deeper friendship, I know I’m one step closer to a Lucy and Eleanor relationship.
We women have so much to offer each other in this little lifetime and no time to waste. We’ll be 90 and hugging goodbye over our wheelchairs soon enough. Can we get started today?
What do you look for in a friendship that will stand the test of time? Would love to hear your thoughts in the comments section.
Seems like I am writing again. Subscribe in the upper-right-hand corner to receive the blog in your email inbox.
I was speaking with my friend, Kim, yesterday about the theme of the recent cabi sales conference, Fearless Pursuit. She said, “You are always so fearless, Joy!” Ha! If only she knew! I am fearful of so much — what people will think of or say about me, that I will fall short of my own expectations or ones others have of me, that I will bite off more than I can chew, or that I will fail to see the larger context and play out my life in small little ways. I am a recovering pleaser and fear has been a friend/foe for as long as I can remember. (A few years ago I even wrote a rare blog piece about my relationship with fear) No, I am certainly not fearless, but I am learning to be courageous. I am learning to feel the fear and do it anyway.
Please, please tell me you saw the Wonder Woman movie this summer! I took my grandmother and the two of us have been texting each other ever since to point out themes of female empowerment, courage, risky grit and leadership. My biggest take away is swirling around the idea of “calling” and how Wonder Woman was “called” to her mission, and that mission didn’t look like everyone around her thought it should. And if you’ve seen the movie, do you remember that moment when she entered no man’s land simply to rescue a village — a small blip on her quest to end WWI? When her team hesitated and said, “This is not what we came here to do,” and she replied, “No, but it’s what I am going to do,” donned her crown and climbed the ladder, I seriously thought my heart was going to explode. It was like she was saying, “This is all there is right now,” and that’s the line that keeps coming back to me as I do the little things to open and build my business this season, settle my family into the new school year, connect with far flung friends and touch base with my parents even when I feel too busy to call. “This is all there is right now,” is what is guiding me forward at the moment. It’s what my inner Wonder Woman is whispering to me so that I don’t get overwhelmed trying to eat the whole pie of my life — dreams, achievements, ambitions and all. This Wonder Woman will stick with me as I enter the big noisy cabi shows this fall and see that one shy gal standing in the corner needing some personal attention, the days when my inbox reaches 300 unopened messages, but a friend in needs wants to go for coffee, or when my kids ask for some extra help and love even though they really could do it on their own. It’s what has kept me traveling so much this past year.
Speaking of which, I’ve been living out of a suitcase for 15 weeks and tomorrow, I go home! I cannot tell you how eager I am to unpack, sleep in my own bed, walk my dogs and make toast in my own kitchen. This last stretch of travel has been wonderful and I’ve seen so many great friends and had fabulous cabi fashion experiences, but it’s time for a little rest and recovery as I enter this fearless fall fashion season and begin again. Stay tuned for lots of information as I dive into the collection and begin having shows, but for today, listen for your own sweet Wonder Woman’s voice and ask, “What is this thing in front of me that is requiring me to be fearless?” What fear are you feeling, but doing the hard work of courage anyhow? What is your no man’s land moment? What did you certainly not sign up for, but you now realize has become everything that you need to do? Well, I can’t tell you how you will get through it, but I can tell you — with certainty — you are not alone. I am cheering you on and I’d love to hear what you are fearlessly pursuing. You can just hit reply to this email and you’ll land in my inbox.
From one strong Wonder Woman to another — Much Love,
Your Singapore Joy
P.S. Truth time: This is a re-post. This morning, I emailed this to my Cabi fashion clients in my typical newsletter form. I usually receive 2-3 responses to a newsletter update. After just a few hours, my inbox had over 30 responses with women sharing their intimate and closely held fears, inspiration and triumphs with me. So… I’m not the only one who is familiar with fear and who is trying to overcome it, huh? Thought I’d share it with my patient readers as well. I promise, you guys, I will start writing again. I think about it, and you, all the time. Thanks for hanging in there with me during this quiet phase.
P.P.S. I know a movie scene outside of the context of the movie just isn’t that moving. But here’s my Wonder Woman Moment. Click Here
They say you’ll cry when you come and you’ll cry when you go, but what they don’t tell you is that you’ll start crying about six months into your stay as you begin to say a series of goodbyes and you’ll never really have dry eyes again.
It’s mass exodus month in Singapore, my least favorite time of year. Some people are returning home, some are moving on to another expat posting and some know they are leaving Singapore, but have no idea where they will go next.
I’m not going to lie, I’m really sad. When I first arrived, I met loads of old timers who were not interested in being my friend. They’d seen so many people come and go and they just didn’t want their hearts broken again. They were polite, gave a nice smile, said the let me know if you need anything perfunctory response to our introduction, but they did not open their hearts to me. I got it. I get it more now.
I opened my heart as wide as it would go, stuck a crow bar in it just in case it tried to self-protect and snap shut and I ventured out to find who my friends would be. I tried to remind myself that I wasn’t looking for a best friend, just the best in a friend. And whoa, Nelly! did I find the best. Somehow I managed to worm my way into the lives of a few old timers anyway and I met plenty of women who had just arrived like me and we all began the long road of getting to know each other. A few hundred lunches, walks, talks and shared experiences later, my life is full of amazing women – many of whom do not know each other. My friendship practice resembles a wagon wheel more than it does a tidy circle of trust.
Friends to exercise with, friends to shop with, friends to travel with, friends to pray with, friends to eat with and even friends to go to the fake, not-nearly-as-good Costco with! My heart and schedule are full and, well, I was recently thinking how I might not want to meet an eager newbie who will throw me off balance with her neediness and incessant questions. Gulp! I’ve become an old timer.
I sat with my friends from ladies’ Bible study last week and we explored the roles of mentors and encouragers in our lives. I thought back to people who had influenced me from the time I was a teenager to those who have walked the tough stuff with me in more recent years and I whispered a prayer of gratitude for them. I looked around the room and saw a few faces that had been my cheering squad when I needed it during my time in Singapore. One of them reminded me about the saying, A friendship isn’t real until you’ve cried together and boy have we had chances to cry together as we’ve prayed for children, husbands, finances, travels, illness and more. That room was filled with encouragers.
Living abroad is a wacky experience – some days I fly so high I can’t believe I am the lucky recipient of this adventure and I fall into bed those nights exhausted and smiling. Other days I burrow under the duvet in my overly air conditioned room and can’t face the world of foreignness, constant change and different-from-homeness for another second. Through those ups and downs, it’s been friendships that have helped balance me out. It’s always been the friendships….
And now SO MANY OF MY FRIENDS ARE MOVING AWAY. And I am deeply excited for their next adventures – some are empty nesting for the first time, some are moving to cool places, learning new languages and readying guest rooms for me to sleep in when I visit, some are finally moving back to their hometowns, to their houses waiting on their cul de sacs with the neighbors who will throw welcome-back-bbqs for them on grills filled with pounds and pounds of meat that didn’t cost a week’s salary.
I’ve attended goodbye parties – pool parties, brunches, coffees, dinners and lunches to say goodbye. I’ve written cards, contributed to group gifts, tried to express my sentiments to each of them and wished them well. And the tiniest, pettiest part of me can’t help but think, “Harrumph. Come August, I’ll be here. Right back here. Car sick in the back of a taxi, sweating through my clothes, chasing groceries and harassing waiters for more ice water, please.”
Deep down I can tell that some of these adorable women who have made an imprint on my heart will be friends for life, and some of them will have been friends while we both lived here. We’ll keep in touch on facebook, but we won’t see each other again. I’m trying to be okay with that. I learned when I moved away from San Francisco – my first move in almost fifteen years – that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t take everyone with me. Not everyone has the keep-in-touch gene. And yet, I remind myself, I am okay.
I will draw closer to the friends who are not moving – I have more lunches, brunches, walks and talks ahead of me with those ladies and perhaps a trip or two to plan. As many as I can count heading on to other things, I can count more who will be sticking around. Let’s make some dates, girlies.
And here’s a tricky part: there are new friends I have not met who will arrive here in just a few months. Sure, they will be needy and have a million questions, but won’t they remind me of someone else who came here – sweaty, messy, emotional and lonely – just two years ago? And if I can keep that crow bar in my heart jammed into place a little longer, keep my heart open and searching who is still here? who is my next friend? – well, there’s no telling what my friendships will look like by this time next year.
And for the ladies leaving, I’m letting you go. I learned a long time ago that open palms receive way more gifts and blessings than closed, gripping-so-tightly-til-my-nails-prick-those-palms ever will. Like other things I’ve wanted to cling to – cities, comforts, possessions, communities, I now place these friendships into that palm and hold it as open as my heart – they are free to go without worrying about me, free to embrace their new lives and make room in their hearts for their new friends. Perhaps I’ll be sleeping between the sheets in their guest room next year, or perhaps our time in each other’s hearts was meant to be simply a gift of Singapore. However our stories continue on – of them with me, and me with them and us on our own – our time together has been nothing short of magical.
Now forgive me for sharing aloud my farewells… Au revoir, my Michelle. Thank you for loving me before you met me and letting me just be me around you. Rachelle, you welcomed me into your inner circle without question and thank you to you both for bequeathing Cheryl to me. I promise to take good care of her. Kris, I think you will be popping into Singapore at times next year, right? Yes? Please? Christine, Hong Kong is not so far away so I think I might see you before too long, and Divya we know we can meet up in the Bay Area anytime. Melissa, DC! I go there every summer! Nida, you’ve certainly traveled well during your time in Asia – I’ll miss our movie dates! Kie, I am beyond excited about Taipei – it’s my favorite city! You have a bedroom whenever you need/want to come back and visit! And if Emma and Rachel keep jumping, IASAS track and field will be in Taipei next April! Sarah, you’ve modeled for me the me-I-want-to-be: your hospitality, graciousness, energy and non-judgmental open arms have affected so many of us at St. George’s. You are a true example of using our time wisely. Diana, the UK awaits and I know you are ready for this next step! Ivy, you have to give up your sunrise views and your beloved elephants, but I wonder (with great anticipation) what adventure awaits you back home in the desert? Gayathri, I think our paths might cross in Chatham! Melissa, may you continue to help women discover their strengths in New Jersey and Charlotte, time to conquer Europe! Hannis, I have you for a little longer, yes? Suzy, second Mom to my boy, keep on truckin’. Your smiley family will keep drawing us to PA. Therese, grace be with you as you transition. May you find the gifts of Seoul quickly; be on the lookout, dear, because they will be waiting for you there. And I will come hunt them down for you if they don’t reveal themselves fast enough, because I need to try bibimbap in its natural habitat.
And of course I am likely to have forgotten a few and that doesn’t mean I will not miss them, just that I am feeble-minded. I will think of you in your new places and I will pray for you and your families as you find your footing in whatever is next.
To all of you who have blessed me with generous friendship and shown me the way to be a welcoming, openhearted Singaporean Expat:
May the Lord bless you and keep you.
May the Lord make his face to shine upon you,
and be gracious to you.
May the Lord lift up his countenance upon you,
and give you peace. (Numbers 6: 24-26)
Fare thee well!
I’m having an affair with Fear. He’s been with me for a while and I’ve come to depend on his voice and assurances like a drug. He’s raised my kids with me – he even attended a few parent teacher conferences, good fellow that he is – and he usually sits alongside me while I drive. He goes to doctor’s appointments with me and he always accompanies me to social gatherings where I am bound to meet new people and he spends the evenings whispering sweet nothings into my ear. Heck, he dropped what he was doing and followed me around the world when I moved to Asia. He can’t keep his hands off of me. We’re like that obnoxious couple making out in the dark at the movie theater or staring longingly into each other’s eyes while roller-skating to love songs. We are entwined, Fear and me.
Here’s what dating Fear offers me.
He keeps me from making dumb mistakes: When I am ready to leap before looking he says, Do you really want to ask that woman you just met if she’d like to go for a walk or coffee? She might think you are a friendless loser. When I consider initiating intimacy with my husband, he steps in swiftly with, Just turn off the light and roll over, Sweetie. Let’s not have you rejected tonight by a man too exhausted to think. Also, he’s probably noticed those extra pounds you’ve put on. When I want to offer my services as a fashion consultant, he steps between the woman and me and says Shhh! She’s going to think you are one of those pushy pyramid scheme people. Just let her go to Nordstrom! See, if he weren’t my boyfriend I’d go around making a fool of myself all the time.
He keeps me safe and the same. With his voice in my ear, I am able to plan, strategize, consider, ponder and talk, but I never need to act. Action takes risk and he has a no-risk rule and I’ve learned to follow it. As I lean toward a new direction, he forms a knot in my stomach. Lean back, the knot disappears. Forward, knot, back, no knot. Fear hates failure and he is always keeping me away from it. Don’t try that new exercise program because you’ll probably quit by the end of the week. Don’t attempt a new leadership plan for your team; no one will follow it. Don’t travel to that country; you’ll catch a disease. So I stay safe and just dream.
He helps me focus on the future. Fear is very in touch with how it will all turn out. He is sure and positive and firm in his predictions. And I believe him. He doesn’t need to wonder, hope or trust because he can see into the future and just knows. It’s spooky sometimes how right he is. I mean, we never really know for sure how other options might have turned out because we always follow his plan, but it’s because he knows best. He’s been a parenting coach for me in always looking ahead and deciding what particular scenarios mean about my kids’ future. He was definitely present and in agreement with the coach that said she’d never play in high school if I didn’t let her join a travel team in fifth grade and he was speaking as loud as my heart was banging about how the bullying would never stop for the rest of my son’s life. He’s keen like that.
There are some downsides to dating him, I know. My girlfriends think he is a drag and are so sick of my showing up with him at my side. And they swear, if I talk about him to them one more time …
He gets boring after a while. I have a taste for adventure and novelty and I want to experience everything the world can offer me. He’s a downer when it comes to exploring new places, new relationships and new opportunities. Always yap yap yapping in my ear about the what ifs, the shoulda-coulda-wouldas, the ways it might possibly tank, the embarrassment and shame I might feel, and how I might be financially vulnerable if I proceed. His routine is so predictable it gets old.
Giving my heart to him closes it to others. He likes to occupy my whole heart and makes sure there is not a lot of room for anyone else in there. He helps me read signals and cues that indicate others don’t like me, think I am dumb, are laughing at me or see right past me. Honestly, when I give him my ear it makes sense not to let anyone in. There are good reasons to be suspicious and I don’t like having a broken heart anymore than the next gal. I keep it closed and watch people walk by and sometimes I just wonder how my life could have been enriched if I let them in.
But the biggest downside to loving him is that I don’t grow. There is no need to attend any lectures or courses for personal development; they won’t amount to much anyway. Because I don’t seek out new experiences or meet new people, my viewpoints and perspectives are never challenged or enlarged. I have a hunch that there is more out there for me, but he keeps holding me back, keeping me safe.
I’ve heard Fear’s voice for so many years that sometimes I forget I have a choice. Sometimes my own voice offers up words I know would make him proud. Occasionally the people who love me want to keep me safe and whole and so they speak some of Fear’s best lines too.
I dream of breaking up with him. I wonder what would happen if I played the field and dated around. I dunno if I’m up for it though. Could be fun. I hear Hope and Trust are currently single, available and looking for dates.
I’m not what you’d call a dog person. If I’ve ever hung out with you and your dog, I probably had to fake enjoyment and interest in your fur friend while we were together. Sorry, I know it’s disappointing. But the smell, the wet tongue, all that saliva, the hair stuck to my clothes after I left your house… I hated all of it. And now here I am, a mama of two puppies. How’d it happen?
Have you ever had a complete and utter change of heart? One day you feel one way about a topic and the next day you feel completely the opposite about the same topic and you cannot explain why? I don’t think this happens very often in life, or at least it hasn’t happened to me very much. Usually I need to do a lot of personal growth before I can change my attitude, or affect a mindset shift. But, overnight it happened to me about dogs, well, about these two particular dogs.
My daughter, Emma, is sixteen-years-old and has wanted a dog since she was about five-years-old. She’s roped her brother into the crusade over the years, but we all know she was the driver of the We want a dog! campaign. We’ve come close to acquiescing over the years. When she was five we told her we would do it when she was eight. But then she turned eight and we looked at each other and like, Ummmm no, we are not doing this thing at all, what in the world were we thinking? (Note, over the years we’ve allowed banana slugs, goldfish, beta fish, frogs and a few nights with a cat. None ended well.)
Emma has pined away for a dog for her entire childhood and there have been cycles to the volume of her desire. Usually when a friend got a new dog, or when she’d see YouTube videos of cute dogs we’d hear about it, but the hardest to bear were when tough social situations occurred at school and the requests would surface again. Sure, I felt guilty. Who hasn’t heard rumors of studies that prove that children who grow up with dogs are better able to handle life’s ups and downs? And who doesn’t get, on a basic level, that having something to hold, pet, love and be with is a great thing. But I didn’t want the burden! The understanding that this fictitious dog would be wholly my responsibility helped chase away my guilt.
A few years ago, some friends had a litter of puppies for whom they were trying to find homes. I actually went and played with two of them. Nope, it did nothing to my heart. I watched my daughter’s face, crushed, envious of the kids who took them, and I felt nothing but resolute, firm, Not for us.
But seven months ago we pulled ourselves out of a life we adored and moved halfway around the world and the we-need-a-dog conversation started blaring once again. My husband thought we really had no choice. After all, they were total troopers about the move, but it hadn’t been easy on them. We owed it to them, he thought. But, I stood my ground. My days were full of trying to settle us into our new lives. I couldn’t even find affordable beef for us to cook, where to get keys made or where to buy Emma a large enough water bottle to make it through a soccer practice in this tropical (oppressively hot) climate. How was I supposed to take on the challenges of finding and raising a dog?
As our lives in Singapore formed and settled, it became obvious that the kids would be far busier here than they’d ever been at home. Most days they leave before 7am and get home after 7pm. After a twelve-minute family dinner, they rush off to their rooms for homework and downtime and then fall asleep exhausted. Emma travels frequently with her sports teams and when she is in Singapore on the weekends, she is out with her friends as much as possible. When we’d finally settled into our home and hit a relatively consistent schedule, I broached the topic with my daughter again. I wanted to show her that not only did she have no time to take care of a dog; she didn’t even have time to enjoy a dog that someone else would willingly take care of. She sadly agreed and I thought the subject was finally and forever shut.
This past Christmas we traveled to Thailand and enjoyed almost two weeks of bliss. About three days before we returned home to Singapore, Emma brought the topic up again. I have to admit, I was a little angry. I thought we were done with that nonsense. Emma, how many times do we need to go over this? Our family travels so much, you are so busy, I have enough responsibility in my life as it is and we are not able to get a dog!
Though she was crestfallen, she agreed with everything I said. I know, I know… But, dear reader, you can probably relate to moments in your own life when your head is speaking logically, but your heart is just telling you something else and it just won’t stop. My girl wanted a dog down to her very core and she knew and understood that it did not make any sense. But when we finished dinner that night, I really did think the conversation was finally, bitterly, disappointedly over. For good.
We went back to the hotel room that night and Brad offered to take the rollaway cot so Emma could sleep with me because her back was hurting. I had insomnia so I was awake in the night reading when Emma started talking in her sleep. She’s been a nighttime talker and occasional sleepwalker for as long as we can remember, and usually her nighttime conversations are hard to follow and full of gibberish, but I still get a kick out of trying to keep it going as long as possible.
After the first few indecipherable sentences, she started speaking to someone in her dream about their dogs. What do you do with your dogs when you go on vacation? Oh, it’s that easy? Maybe you can tell my Mom about that.
Her voice sounded so young, vulnerable and full of hope that my heart seized up and that firm, logical resolution I’d held for years slowly leaked out of it. Just like that. In that moment, I had one of those cosmic realizations about my mothering of her – it is almost finished. In two years from now, we will be preparing for her to move back to the US for college and my chances at pouring love into her will be few and far between. All that I want to show her, impress upon her, model for her, teach her, give her or do for her has to happen soon or it will become a parental regret. Since she entered Kindergarten, she has only asked for three things in life that were in my power to give her that I have firmly rejected: 1) to see movies rated above her age like all her other friends, 2) to stay up later than her bedtime like all her other friends, and 3) to own a dog.
In the middle of the night, in that foreign country, my heart had a change. I still didn’t want a dog, and I still knew that if we got a dog I would be the one to take care of it, but I also knew this was going to be my swan song offering of love to my girl.
The next morning at the pool I scrolled through my facebook feed and saw this:
Divine timing, dear reader. I passed my iPad over to Emma and told her to contact the rescue organization and ask what the process for adoption would be. She was confused, but happy. She and Louis began poring over the pictures of the puppies.
We flew home and the next morning, Louis, Emma and I headed to the vet who was taking care of the pups. We played with and were peed on by the whole litter and another family showed up and quickly picked one, so we scrambled and picked out ours. I spontaneously decided we needed two of them. I have two kids, so we need two puppies. Or, I’ll have two kids leave home soon so I will want two to remain. Or, I always wanted to have four kids, but life only gave us two and now we can finally have two more. Or, I wanted these pups to have each other to play with, or it was just so sad to separate them from the rest of the litter. You can pick your reason, dear reader, because there is a seed of truth in each of them.
Here we are seven weeks later, and it continues to be a wild ride. Even though my kids are both too busy to take care of them, they do what they can. They each take a feeding and Louis has stepped up to take the dogs on runs around the block. When I had to travel to the US for a really long work trip just days after getting them, they took turns sleeping on the couch for the middle-of-the-night potty breaks. They’ve each experienced the not-so-fun part of parenting these pups.
We were all correct, Emma doesn’t have much time in her life for dogs, but when she gets home and they wag half their bodies in happiness to see her, or when Louis returns home exhausted, but says, I’m going out back to play with the dogs! and I stand at the kitchen window and watch my three puppies leap and pounce on each other… well, then I know I made the right decision.
Even my own heart has melted and I don’t hate the puppy smell as much. I probably give a few too many baths, and I obsessively wash my hands and don’t wear black unless I know I can escape the house without being tackled by them. But when I’m out with friends and I realize I have a dog hair stuck in my lip-gloss, I just say, “Ha Ha look, it’s just a hair from one of my kids, er, I mean dogs.”
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Recently, I made a whirlwind trip to the States and in addition to working longer and harder than any other twelve days in my life, and mamma-worrying constantly about my kids, I had a chance to catch up with a few old friends. One asked me why I wasn’t writing more on this blog. I stumbled and mumbled a few excuses about how busy and exhausted I’ve been and then I came clean. This move has been hard. Like, r.e.a.l hard. Most of what I’ve been writing sounds so sad and depressing that I haven’t wanted to share it and let the record reflect it. A lot of what I’ve been thinking and feeling would be a bit of a buzz kill. As a family we are making wonderful memories and stretching ourselves in lots of directions with travel and adventure, but also experiencing our share of homesickness, culture shock and adjustment issues that come with such a big change. I promised my friend that I would write more often, and maybe even share some of the sad bits, but that my goal was to be fully honest while staying positive. So for today I will keep it peppy and tell you about a few of my favorite things….
Singapore was Christmas crazy!
Literally, everywhere I went from November til mid January, I saw tinsel, sparkle, lights and flashy motifs. Even the most off-the-beaten-path shops had outdone themselves in holiday garb! At home, I always felt as if the month of December was a mash up of celebrations, and so “Happy Holidays” was our inclusive way of recognizing that not everyone believes in Christmas. NOT HERE AT ALL. Everyone’s holiday happens here and much ado is made about each one. Christmas is definitely the biggie and it seems lots of people get in on the fun whether the Christmas Story holds religious meaning for their families or not. The Christmas season felt fun, upbeat and joyful and not a bit political. And it’s really, really hot. Imagine Christmas lights, Christmas music and sweat rivulets at all times. I went to a fancy Christmas Ladies Luncheon and had such a hard time finding something to wear. All my normal holiday dresses and outfits felt too heavy, so I settled on a silk blouse and a taxi but after the walk home that blouse should have been burned.
Traditions are still traditions, even in a new place.
We bought a live(ish) tree and decorated it with the same bundle of hodge-podge ornaments we’ve been carting around and adding to bit-by-bit for 19 years. By doing this, we connected this life of “after” to the life we’d been living in San Francisco, otherwise known as “before.“ One of the difficulties about moving that caught me off guard is the blank slate feel. We arrived hopeful, but without a sense of what to look forward to and be excited about. Turns out, it’s exhausting to enter each day and situation with no sense of expectation. We are learning so much about what the calendar year looks and feels like, and beginning to relax a bit. I had not realized that in the past when I anticipated Thanksgiving, dishes, smells, table linens and dinner guest’s faces would all subconsciously flash through my mind. And if the event or holiday turned out a little differently, that was okay; it was just a variation of what I had been expecting. This move made it so we expected nothing. There was nothing to look forward to, only the present to appreciate. And that’s good and grounding in a way, but hard to live every single day. Now that we’ve had six months under our belts, we are beginning to feel a rhythm, and especially now that we’ve had one Christmas season to walk through, it feels somehow connected to past Christmas seasons. My children have each celebrated a birthday here and they got to pick their breakfast and their special dinner and we dragged out the numbered candles we’ve been using since they turned one. Honoring family traditions has helped stabilize us a bit. Even attending a Lessons and Carols service did its part to heal the hearts of our holiday homesickness. Scroll to the bottom for a glimpse of St. George’s Lessons and Carols and the opening song.)
Fresh start syndrome.
As much as the blank slate can cause me anxiety, (who am I without a full calendar?) I wouldn’t trade it away. I’m really starting to dig my Singapore self. Obviously, I have the same personal habits and character traits as before, but I have much more freedom to choose my actions and how to fill my days. I pace myself better here. I am taking better care of my family and I’m being much more intentional about friendships, both keeping up with the ones from home and investing time in new ones here. I do have a slew of lovely ladies here in Singapore that I’d like to get to know better in 2014. There are about ten women I just know I will like, but we’ve had trouble getting on each others’ calendars. The old Joy would feel super stressed out about this and create ridiculous scenarios to fit in a coffee, a walk, a tag team grocery shopping trip, just to make sure we got it checked off the list. The new Joy just believes it will happen as soon as it can and relaxes into knowing that those women, or others will eventually become my people.
Guys, I’m not gonna lie…. it was rough in the beginning. I felt like the four of us were spinning in different directions and I was just trying to hold onto the metal bar of the merry-go-round. But yesterday, I had a really bad day and let a lot of anger fester for hours. (I won’t bore you with the story, but it involved getting the total runaround about how to repair or replace this tiny remote key that is supposed to open the electronic gates to my house. Can you think of a more boring way to spend your morning? Me neither.) Yesterday was significant because it made me realize I am beginning to acclimate to this country and its habits because that down, blue, I-hate-the-way-Singaporeans-don’t-give-straight-answers-or-offer-helpful-suggestions sulk felt odd, like it didn’t quite fit me anymore. It was a feeling I used to live with and now it’s a rarity. (Except when we eat out at restaurants I usually feel it for the entire meal. I don’t think I will ever get used to restaurant service here, so we eat at home most nights.) Once I processed the anger away and remembered how much face-saving is at play – always and forever it’s there in the conversation and my western mind tends to forget that – I was able to brush past the experience and enjoy a night with my son. That’s some serious acclimation, friends.
Friends who visit
Yeah, we kinda run a B&B around here. Book your trip now or there won’t be room for you in 2014. In the space of three months, I will only spend a handful of nights on my own in Singapore, and I am loving it. There is nothing more fun than finally getting out and exploring my new city with people who really just want to see me happy. When I gleefully point out a temple or a chicken rice stall that I’ve come to love, my guests are tickled pink to experience it all with me. And it makes me happy to be here in this new life, sharing it with my old life. Somehow showing it all to someone who knows me really well helps me believe it’s really true. I have moved to the other side of the world, see? Here are the Chinese characters on the street signs to prove it. It’s been affirming to share my new life with old friends.
The kids I brought here.
They were amazing individuals before we moved and the transition has helped them blossom even more. I see these tall, tan, semi-adults sharing my house and creating the lives they want and I think… Wow, Singapore has grown them up. They are both taking athletic, social and academic risks that make my head spin, but somehow they quickly realized, we’ve got this opportunity and we can make the best of it if we don’t hold back. And they are taking the bull by the horns in every direction. I just sit back and watch it happen and feel honored to be close to the flames. If I were forced to give each of them a new middle name I wouldn’t hesitate; Confidence would stick.
Being in the club
No matter where we’re from or how long we’ve been here, whether we have children, or if we are blue or afraid to drive on the left, or if we work full-time, we are all living away from our home country. The expat club is inclusive and has embraced me. I am grateful. I met a sweet gal named Charlotte at church recently. She’d been here all of nine days when I walked up to say hello. I lost track of her and bumped into her about eight weeks later and she said “Thank you for being so warm and welcoming to me when I first moved here.” For real? I’m already on the welcome wagon? I can tell someone where to grocery shop, where to buy new soccer cleats and a wallet for your son that will fit the odd sizes bills. Looks like it homies – I am an old timer round these parts!
My CAbi work has been a lifeline. When I could have stayed at home in my jammies all day watching Netflix (who am I kidding, of course I did that a few times in the Fall) I had a business to focus on. There are CAbi consultants across the US who need me (or at least pretend to and I am grateful for their trickery!) and customers who eagerly await my return trips to San Francisco. Guys, this is HUGE for a woman who went from an over-engaged life to a quiet one. And CAbi has helped me meet women here. Clothes are very expensive and cut for a smaller body, so it turns out that there’s a market here for my work. So far, I’ve mule-d some CAbi orders back in my luggage for pals here, but time will tell how fast this business grows.
I might have to save this topic for a future post because there is just too much to tell. But for now… omgoodness we adopted two of the cutetest littermates on the Earth. Go ahead and Google “how to potty train two puppies at once” and you will know a little about what my life is like right now.
More soon from planet keeping it real and positive.
Your Singapore Joy