SeeingRred
The Unburdening
It’s my first hot shower in three weeks. The feeling is truly indescribable. The water tumbles over me, tingling, soothing my body, healing my wounds, washing away the remnants. I feel clean and renewed, invigorated and clear. Back at home, in my own space, only now away from the pressure and chaos, I can write again.
I was thrilled with the idea of having coconut trees and hummingbirds as a backdrop. I had thought that, with the whispering heat caressing my willing spirit, I naturally would be inspired to write beautiful things. I pictured myself, the concrete house still in slumber, rising with the sun and the rooster’s crow, practising yoga and kata, and meditating on the private juliette balcony looking over lush lands passed down by my mother. I had carried workout gear, kitchen supplies, and my self-help workbook, fully equipped to refocus mentally and get back in shape. And, with my favourite book in hand, I was looking forward to falling in love with reading again. In so many ways, it was supposed to be a time of healing and rebuilding.
I had known that there would be some struggle and toil. It was to be expected with six adults together 24-7 and my three young children –9 strong forces– all in a 36’ x 20’ semi-functional living space. Literally tripping over each other, my little family sleeping on air mattresses each night on the dirt-tracked living room floor, only 5 white plastic chairs to sit on (We got more seating as the 5-gallon paint cans were emptied one by one ☺). Broken latches and locks, shattered window panes, and huge gaps from botched door installations allowed the sweet Caribbean breeze to pass through, along with the creepy crawlies, vermin and biting bugs. Recent storms and floods on the island, along with a volatile septic system, made the drinking water suspect. Security, personal safety, hygiene and health were a great concern for me at all times. And, knowing (and being reminded) that I had made the choice to bring my family to this kind of environment, left me in a constant state of guilt and anxiety.
We had taken much time and effort, over-planning and shipping down everything possible so that the kids would be entertained, and completely happy: favourite books and board games, a basketball net, a volleyball and badminton set, Swing Ball, a 3-person-Slip n’ Slide, water squirters, a huge inflatable pool, a PS4 component and their iPads, and even a big-screen t.v. It didn’t matter. Right from the beginning, our plans began to unravel. The tractor, hired to level the land and destroy the gigantic ant hills, came the day we arrived and uprooted all of the grass. The rain poured every day leaving the area surrounding the house in a sea of mud. So, all of the daily outdoor activities were kiboshed. Perhaps stomping freely in the pools of muddy puddles with our rubber boots could have been a point of elation. But, the thought of ill-intentioned strangers lurking outside the broken-down fences or vicious, winged jack spaniards waiting in their giant nests hanging in the nearby trees and all along the eavestroughs, kept me and the children inside. The heat was consuming and with limited air conditioning for respite, the balls and skipping ropes were left abandoned on the floor amongst scattered luggage, building supplies, and trailing debris. It was taxing just walking from one room to another, let alone having to trek up the precarious spiral staircases their safe isolation. From 10 hours of technology a week to sometimes 10 hours in one day, confined to a single “clean-ish” room to play, in my mind I was already the worst mother in the world.
I had had high hopes. And, it was great at first, exciting to be there in paradise tackling this great feat together. But, with the honeymoon period over, patriarchal politics coming into play, and plans taking their caribbean time, I felt lost and, although surrounded by people fluttering in and out, alone. The days passed and we went through the motions, often feeling as though each step of progress lead us to yet another hurdle. Worst for me, was taking hours upon hours away from M and the kids to tackle errands that most often were derailed by policy or unforeseen events. We managed to sneak away for a few visits with relatives and a couple of beach limes, but sadly the “fun family vacation time” melted away like the promises of daily milk-sweet-sorrel-snowcones. It all came to a crescendo, when in the third week of our trip, the three kids fell sick with viruses and ear infections. They were lethargic, dehydrated and not even juicy mangos or “penny cools” would go down without a fight. I felt the weight of responsibility bearing down on me at every instance, each day less able to fake the smiles that hid my mangled and regretful heart.
The Soul-Searching
I questioned if I made the right choices and if it was worth it. I take comfort in the belief that every decision is the right decision. In spite of all the sacrifices and hardship, my consolation is that I did what I promised I would do. In a foreign and sometimes unfriendly land, strong ties have been established, and the most dire things have been set in place or at least are now at a point of understanding. But, the most significant and the least expected development is that we as a group, previously separated by geography/generation/ideology, let go of our pride and pulled together. We reconnected (props to WhatsApp!) and shared our daily struggles, turning them into crazy antics and a lot of belly-laughs. Placed in less than ideal conditions, we were humbled and reminded of where we came from and where we have been. We remembered that we are a FAMILY, finally a team again with a clear vision and a common goal. And, our house is beautiful, standing tall and strong.
The Denouement
I endured and prevailed through a long and extremely difficult stretch. The past year has stacked me with the loftiest, deep-seated accumulation, the pressure causing a rift of unlearning, crashing my firmly established foundations at my naked feet. Yet, I persisted. I have reached my breaking point and survived it (again). I have proven time after time that I am strong enough and that I can handle whatever Life throws at me. I know and accept there will be unexpected losses and gains. I will take many risks, say yes to daily challenges, and face my fears head on. I do not have to be afraid of the unpredictable. Whisper often: “I can handle this.”
