The Plane Has Landed

I'm sitting here this morning, looking out at our new view, reflecting on the week that has been. Obviously, a lot has happened since the writing of my last post, and I'll do my best to convey it without getting heavy on the detail. In fact, I have a feeling it will end up being split into two posts.

Last I left off, we had a few pending goodbyes to make to family. That ended up including the addition of my father-in-law enduring a heart attack, that resulted in a quadruple bypass surgery. To say that time was scary and heart wrenching doesn't come close to the reality of it. We knew that making the decision to move to Alaska included the possibility of something happening to family while we were away. We did not anticipate it happening so soon. However, I'm glad we were still here when it did. Our last week in Texas was spent equally between the hospital and packing up our house. However, the most gut wrenching part was the last night at the hospital, my father-in-law still recovering, my mother-in-law still by his side (she never left), saying our final goodbyes. Everything inside us screamed to stay, to see it through, to make sure they were going to be okay. As I mentioned in the last post, we've never been ones to abandon or leave our post. And the negative thoughts that run through your mind....What if something goes wrong in recovery? What if this is the last time you see him alive? My father and mother-in-law have essentially been my second set of parents since I was 12, and in mine and Philip's adult years, they have become close friends.

Once again, it put our decision into harsh perspective, forcing another self-examination as to whether or not it was worth it. Yet, the pull to go remained. So, we heavily, tearfully said our goodbyes, went home, wrapped up the last of our packing, loading and preparing, and laid down in a bed that provided no rest.

An hour later found our family of six saying goodbye to the last of our family, my brother and sister-in-law, and our sweet nephew, who has become a fifth child to us. I still get a lump in my throat reflecting on that moment, holding on to each of them, trying to soak in as much as we could, knowing it would be far too long before we'd get to do it again. And our final tearful goodbye to my brother-in-law at the airport was almost too much. Technology is brilliant in allowing FaceTime calls, and constant conversation via text. But we all know it's just not the same. It's just not. I miss my jam sessions with my nephew. I miss our weekly brunch around the round table. I miss the random walking through the door and hearing my sister-in-law's voice wishing us a good morning. I miss the football trash talk between my brother-in-law and Josh.

But we're here now, in this remote village on the edge of nowhere. And we're doing our best to embrace our new home, and make the most of this crazy decision of ours. And with that, I'll transition to our first week here.

We arrived in the village on Tuesday afternoon. The flight in the puddle jumper was actually a lot more pleasant than I thought it would be. It was a fairly smooth flight, and the cabin was heated...to the point that we had to ask the pilot to turn the heat down! I also never felt any moment of panic during the flight since our pilot was more focused on eating his breakfast sandwich with both hands, than he was steering the plane. But viewing the landscape for the entirety of the 2 hour flight was breathtaking. It really was a mosaic of winding rivers, mountain tops, and snow-covered trees.

It also prepared the mind for just how remote this place is. It was a grounding moment when we flew over the village, right before landing on the little air strip, that finally made this hypothetical place real. And then, just like that, we landed, and began unloading the remnants of our previous life onto a truck to head to our new house.

Did I mention that our new living quarters is a bit smaller than our Texas home? We are now cozily residing in a 2 bedroom/1 bathroom duplex unit. (We're on the right.) Yet surprisingly, there's plenty of space for us. Most of us congregated in the same room in our old house anyway. Apparently, our family abnormally likes to spend a lot of time together. The combination of our wood stove and the floor heating keeps it plenty warm despite our overnight temps of 6 degrees. We've enjoyed working by the window with the river view. The kids have enjoyed playing the Nintendo Switch on our small projector in the living room. And so far, we've been able to develop a good schedule on using the bathroom. However, some household habits that are new and that are taking some time to adjust to:

1. Putting toilet paper in the trash instead of the toilet. I'll just let that one speak for itself.

2. Stepping up the 6 inch platform to use the toilet or the shower. So far, no one has plunged headfirst into the bathtub in the middle of the night. Knock on wood.

3. Not raiding the cabinets for food whenever a hankering for snacking hits. The cost of shipping food here is a great incentive for controlling your food portions.

4. Distilling water. The tap water here is not suitable for drinking. So our water currently has to be distilled over at the school and then hauled over here in 3 gallons jugs. Eventually, our home distiller system will be functional. But until then, we're hauling our water through the snow.

5. Also, we now have six dishwashers instead of one. You can infer what that means. :)

Now you have a visual of our little abode. It's small, but sufficient, and I'm actually loving the smaller amount of space to maintain. I did have daydreams of a small cottage in the woods, and that's essentially what we have here. The quiet is amazing. Watching the ice slowly graze by our windows is calming. We're remembering to breathe, and to breathe deeply. Although definitely through our noses, and with face coverings.