When my father was 40 (same age I am turning in a month AHHHHHH) he got a job with the UN. Until that point (which would translate into all of my life until this moment) he had been struggling with politics, with love and with belonging.
The UN hired him for a posting in Haiti. Who goes to Haiti? you sure you want to go to Haiti? It was not the most desirable of places to get posted (no disrespect, I was born there and have a profound love for the island) yet he packed up, to newly hitched (to my mom) and accepted the adventure full of hopes and dreams.
Now to my current reality, my husband gets hired for a posting in Cuba. Who goes to Cuba? You sure you want to go to Cuba? Yet we packed up and are SO excited.
Life has a crazy way of repeating itself, of going around in mystical circles.
My father passed away last year (almost 1 year ago to the day) and I can't help but ask myself over and over "what would he say?" "what would he think of all of this?" but maybe it wouldn't be happening if he were alive... maybe there is something about living concentric lives that has to do with el mas alla.
I am not a particularly spiritual person... yet these past couple of months I can't help but find myself wondering and thinking and praying (to the wind and the spirits and to the energies of those that came before us).
So now, in a weird roundabout way... we are stepping into his footsteps, his legacy, and providing for our children the life that he provided for us.
Every step of the way (reccon trip, packing the house, living (camping) in an empty house... the feelings are already there, they are not new, they are just getting recycled (probably up-cycled) and I am convinced that the spirits of those explorers before me are standing beside me, giving me the strength and guidance to make this journey.
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