Monday, May 18, 2009


The day before I left Turkey to fly home I was quite solemn about the whole thing. Actually I was sad about leaving. I sat in my tiny kitchen looking up at the wall that's covered with my kids' schoolwork that they had done throughout the course of the year. My little home. My beautiful little home that's housed so many wonderful moments together. My mismatched dishes, my silverware drawer that lacks one of those plastic organizers, my storebought water barrel, my cluttered windowsill with knick-knacks from my life but mostly my kids', my dirty floor that has been swept daily once and sometimes twice, all the way up to our bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Definitely not the kind of place that people are going to comment on when they walk in the door. The usual, "Ooohhh, Ahhhh, I love your place," wouldn't be uttered. In fact, wherever I have called home, that has been the case. No frills. Just functionality. Just a place where food can be prepared quickly, items can be located easily, and people can be put comfortably. That leaves me a lot more time for memories to be made.

So anyway, I was sad. Sad because it may be the last time I ever step inside this little home. After I step out of it, it might be boxed away in my memory forever. Folded up. The next tenants might sterilize it and throw away all the love we had in it and fill it up with fancy furniture and showy decor and then run away to work each day and never spend any time in it. Never laugh in it, never mess it up, never read in it's rooms, never open it's windows and let in the outside air. Poor, lonely, little home.

After that day, the day of the trip came and adrenaline rushed in. I was going to fly for the first time alone with my three Tumbleweeds. How would it go? Knowing those three, crazy probably. From the moment I woke up to the time I got on the plane and we were taking off, there was no time to look wistful and get teary eyed, which is what I would have done if I were a little less stressed. So as we rose in the air a chapter closed and a new one has opened.

I can count the times on one hand where a chapter ends in my life.

1. I flew home from Spain after a year there.

2. I got released from my mission.

3. I married my husband.

4. I gave birth to my first baby.

5. I flew home from Turkey.

There are many more chapters in my life, but none mean as much to me as these. My first chapter opened the world's doors for me. It taught me so much about people in other places. It taught me that I can do anything I want to in life. My second chapter taught me that occupying yourself in the Lord's service is fulfilling and beneficial to a selfish young adult's soul. My third chapter ended my single days. I would never wonder about my life with anyone else again. I would have company from that day on for the rest of my life. My fourth chapter got rid of this question ever entering my mind, "I wonder what I'll do today?" It also began my years as a mother. My husband put it very well in his latest post. My fifth chapter taught me a lesson in finding happiness wherever you are. Although, I'm no pro, I began that journey in Turkey. Thank you Turkey for digging the foundation. Perhaps someday I'll be a stalwart, sturdy individual that can roll with any punch, rain or shine. Insallah!

There is one thing that I know will happen, however. If my husband and I ever settle down, or exceed an income of $30, 000, we will look back on our days in that blessed country and wish we could step back just for a moment and mingle in that jolly society again where you go out of the house just to get out. Even now I look back and think about how much fun we had together. Who knows? Perhaps that's where we will end up. But for now we have a quest and I don't know where it will take us. Join us and please do comment. I love them.


Layla said...

Yay for being back in the States! I'm so sad I don't near by so I could see you :(

UMM Did I miss something? Are you leaving Turkey forever? How sad.

Aimee said...

It would be so strange to not have you return for a proper farewell, in the off chance you don't return. Just know that Istanbul made its mark on you, but please know the McCollum family also made its mark on Istanbul (and all of us residing here).

I'm personally convinced that moving is such hard work for the sole purpose of making it easier to leave. By the time you sort, box, wrap, fold, carry, load and label you're so exhausted you just want to be done with the whole thing. Not until the dust settles does the melancholy set in. Maybe that is where you are now.

May you find peace and happiness with whatever the near and distant future holds. Insallah.

Ve gorusuruz! Belki sonra, ama gorusuruz.

Sonja said...

You are so good at expressing your thoughts! They are tender and meaningful. Thank you for sharing them. I can't imagine all the thoughts rumbling around in your mind right now, but I can relate to the feeling of moving from one chapter to the next. Exciting and terrifying mingled with sadness and joy?

Can't wait to see you though. :)

Good luck and best wishes.

Sunny said...

Thanks for sharing your thoughts. I'm very curious how the flight home went :) and I can't wait to see you.

Strawberry Girl said...

Your post brought me a bit of nostalgia as well, for all of the endings and beginnings in our lives. I can't wait to see you either!! :D

Nancy said...

I'm with Layla...I'm confused about whether you're just home for the summer or home for good...