Relief

I think I've mentioned before that I work at a college.  In the summertime, they solicit members of the staff to host incoming international students, who need hosts for a day or two, then the hosts become the students' "go-to" parents on campus when they need help with any number of things.  So four years ago my husband and I agreed to do this.  And they were so short of families that year, they asked us to take two students.  So we did.  Two girls, neither of which shared many characteristics except for their gender and their attendance at this school. One of them is an artist, and she's the one we interacted with the most.

This past weekend was commencement and when we saw her at breakfast in the morning (on campus, in the International Students house) she informed us that she wasn't done packing yet - she still had "about an hour's worth" of packing to do.  This didn't bode well for the way I thought the day would go.  We came home once the second girls' name was announced, changed into work clothes and got some housework and yard work done.  Two hours later my husband went back to get the artist, and she was nowhere to be found.  To say he was furious would probably be understating his demeanor.

It all worked out eventually, because we had dinner reservations a good distance from here. And several other folks were going with us.  This girl had my husband's truck PACKED.  It seemed she was going to be storing things at our house instead of going back home to Europe and never seeing her again. I loved the girl and treated her like my own, but on Saturday I really thought I was going to throttle her!  She left a pile of bags/packages to be delivered and/or picked up by students returning in the fall.  Two boxes need to be delivered about 90 minutes north of here to be shipped to her at a reduced rate.  A friend is going to do that for me - and student left $100 bill to pay for the shipping.  But we have to re-pack the sloppily packed boxes because she made quite a mess of them.  Two of her paintings are in our basement and I guess she thought we'd cough up $1,000 to buy them.  But after storing mountains of her belongings in our house for the past three summers, picking her up and taking her back to the airport numerous times (she did a semester abroad of course), hosting her for meals several times, and paying for dinner this past Saturday to the tune of nearly $300, I think we don't have the budget to buy her paintings.  She offered us the paintings - but she didn't say "You can have them." She said "Would you like to own one or two?" and that inferred she expected payment.  Nope. If she can't find anyone else to sell them to from across the ocean, they'll be in our burn pile by the end of September!

So it's with a great sense of relief that I said good-bye to her yesterday.  I thought I'd get teary-eyed and be sad but if anything, I would have preferred to stay home and have my husband drop her off.  I never thought I'd feel so glad to have her gone.  The only tears I can work up over a departure these days is the impending one of my son. I will feel a different kind of relief when we know he is gone and at his new post overseas.  As my sister said "It has to begin so it can end."  She knows - her husband deployed in December.  So it is with much anticipation that I await the beginning of my son's nine months away from America.  He is ready. He is anxious to prove what a great job he can do. And I'll do my level best to keep any tears from showing up when we Skype or Facetime while he's gone.  But the tears about him come with little to no provocation these days.  A song on the radio did it to me last week. I had a jazz station on, and Larry Carlton's "Smiles and Smiles to Go" came on.  My son was delighted to hear it come on the radio in the car when he was about 5 or 6.  He said "Mum! I know this song! It's called 'Sunshine and Sunshine and Sunshine'!!"  That's the title of that song to me now - and it's what I hope he'll have an abundant supply of while he's gone.