I am writing this from my bed in Northern California, happy to be home after exactly 6 months overseas. I've been home a week now, but haven't even been able to begin the process the complex emotions faced in leaving until now. One main reason I came home when I did was because my mother was getting ordained as a minister in the United Church of Christ, the culmination of nearly ten years of work. My mother decided when she was 50 years old that her present career as an audiologist was no longer fulfilling her in the way a career should. She felt a compelling and all-encompassing call to use her talents in a different way, and began the process of enrolling in seminary, to see where exactly she would be lead. She began seminary while still working three days a week, owning her own business and caring for me and my sister. Eventually, once she finished her Master of Divinity, she sold her half of the business and moved fully into the process of becoming a minister. She completed her chaplain training at a hospital and moved into a job as a hospice chaplain, shepherding people through the process of dying.
I cannot think of a better person for this job than my kind, compassionate, loving mother. I could not have been prouder on Sunday when she finally become the Reverend Jennifer Lathrop, surrounded by friends and family alike.
During my last weeks in Australia, my departure date loomed over my head. As excited as I was to return home to friends and family, to witness my mother's special day and to complete my university degree, I was shattered at the prospect of leaving Australia, the place I had come to know so well, and Jamie, the man I had come to love so much.
But circumstances were out of our control, and neither of us ever seriously contemplated the idea that I would just not go home. I have worked too hard and sacrificed too much over the last 3 years to graduate just short of a degree, and there was no way I would not be there for my mother's ordination. So we doggedly prepared for my departure by filling our heads with the mundane-ness of our daily routine. I became so preoccupied with the slow process of packing up what had been my life for the past six months that I didn't feel the panic or sadness that I was sure would come. Though at first I relished this small comfort, I began to get nervous. Why wasn't I freaking out? I should have been a wreck. I was leaving behind the life I had made for myself and the man I loved and heading back to the bustle and stress of university life. I began to become neurotic over my lack of neurosis (a true feat). Did this mean I didn't love Jamie? Did it mean I wasn't sad? Was this normal? What was wrong with me? I doggedly continued packing and brushed Jamie away when he became sad, ashamed that I couldn't even muster a tear. In this cloud of uncertainty, we headed to the airport, waited in a long line, and headed for security. There, blocking the entrance, with heaps of strangers looking on concernedly, I lost it. Much to my relief. Glorious, choking sobs racked my body as I slumped against Jamie and wailed like a toddler. I have never been as happy to have been so sad. I knew that I hadn't become an emotionless robot, doomed to walk the earth alone, never feeling a connection to a place or a people. All the sadness I had dutifully placed in the back of my head to make room for the worries that came with packing up my life into two suitcases, getting to the airport on time, and all the other millions of tiny responsibilities of travel came flooding back into the forefront as I walked away from Jamie down the stairs. I was a real human, who felt love and regret and sadness like everyone else, and I would carry all these emotions back with me as I reunited with my family, where they would be joined by happiness, excitement, and yes, probably more tears.
I have learned so much from my mother over the years, but as I face these next challenges; juggling a busy schedule, jobs and internship, a long distance relationship, graduating, I will always remember that it is never unacceptable to follow a dream and to place your own happiness ahead of your fears. I have no idea what will happen in my immediate future, and I'm ok with that. Or at least I am trying to be. I have had a wonderful six months where I have learned and loved and traveled and explored and I suspect that I will continue to reap the rewards of this experience for many years to come.
So thank you Australia for this wonderful experience, and thank all of those of you who have read this blog and participated in your own small way in my journey.
And with that, Lathrop out.
