They Came.

I was talking to my mom on the phone last night and mentioned the kids signing up for their new school and one of the kids friends staying with us for a couple weeks while her parents went to South Africa, and then I said, “And you know exactly what I am talking about!”. Because you were here. You met my friends. You saw where the kids were going to go to school. You saw what I am talking about and now you know. 

It was a great 2 weeks, and I am so glad my parents were able to come visit us, here...in Zambia. It’s as if the last 5 years of our life now can be understood. It can be seen clearly. It makes sense. 

It’s a difficult thing to move away from family and friends. We have experienced that a few times, the farthest before here was Montana. My parents were living in Georgia at the time, and Montana is pretty much as far from there as you can get. 

In my family, being far away is measured by how many hours it takes to get there in a car or how many plane rides, and if there was a dire emergency I could be there in “fill-in the blank” hours.  My parents moved from their families in Wisconsin and Illinois to Florida when they were starting their family. And I can remember every summer getting in the car and driving up to see my grandparents. So I don’t think my parents naturally assumed that we would live in their backyard when we established our own family, but I know for sure they didn’t expect Africa. But back to Montana...it seemed agonizingly far when the kids were little. and the winters were cold. and my sweet Emma Rose was born early and my mom couldn’t come visit until a week later. That was hard.

We were far. 

With the exception of our 4 years in Montana, we always managed to see my family at least once if not twice a year and my mom always found the time to drive up and see us in Kentucky every few months.  Whether it was for the major life events, ( the most memorable being the birth of Caleb, the only one of the kids that she was there at the birth for ),  or the everyday events, to watch the kids while James and I had time away or just to get her Nonna fix, she was able to hop in the car and get to us, to me, whenever I needed her. 

Then Africa. 

And it was hard to understand. 

And it was hard to be happy. 

And it was hard not to feel the loss of a daughter and grandchildren. 

And it was hard to relate and empathize.

And it was hard to arrange times to talk on the phone just to feel connected.

And it was hard not to meet the newest grandchild until a year and a half later.

And really hard when two of the kids were hospitalized. 

And maybe the hardest when it seemed like my own life was falling apart.  

And we were in Africa. 

Not just a few hours away. 

We were many, many, tears, away. 

Many years, away.

Many miles, away.

Many shots away.

Many days of planning, away.

Many days of saving money, away.

Many plane rides and layovers, away.

And then they came.

Oh Happy Day! 

And now, they have seen. They have been here.  

They have sat at the dinner table in my home 

They have met my friends, 

They have spent time with the kids, 

They have seen where we shop and what we do and how much things cost here.

They have seen where we go when we just need a break from Africa. (The Taj mom for sure...)

They have seen the marketplaces and the street vendors. They have had fruit, puppies, trinkets and any random objects held up to their window to buy. (Dad, Are you sure you didn’t want to buy a plunger or picture of the Zambian president?)

They have sat in the dark and been here when we scurried to find the flashlights and waited for the power to come back on. (and heard the kids pretending to scream or get lost in the dark)

They have met the children and seen the work that we established for the orphans. 

They have driven with me through Chipata and Kabanana. 

They have worshipped with us at church, both with our expat friends and with our impoverished but full-hearted Zambian friends. 

And they have heard the incredible, soulful singing.  And been moved. 

And there were drums, and they were enjoyed in a way that I never thought my dad would enjoy drums in church.

And they have seen and experienced first hand the selfless giving and serving by others who have nothing, and yet give with joy out of their nothing.  

And we did all these things together. Experienced them together. 

Not just me writing home trying to tell them how it feels when you are invited into someone’s home and you sit on a broken couch, looking around and you see how many essential things are missing from that home, like electricity and running water, and a kitchen. And trying to explain how you count the number of kids that all sleep in the living room, and hear them say how grateful they are that you came to visit but really you are just thinking of how as the visitor you have received more blessing from them and can learn so much about gratefulness from them. 

It’s not something that can be explained. It is only something that can be felt, and felt only by experience. 

They have seen the elephants with us, gone on safari and played countless card games with the kids. Who knew a card game could get so loud and intense? Oh yes, this is the Riordan Italian-Irish side of the family on that one! Stories of “when I was a boy”, from Poppa were told again and more kids were old enough to laugh at them this time, I think even one or two ones I didn’t remember.  And for every fresh fruit and vegetable and salad that they couldn’t eat, there were baked goods from the Cakery to compensate. So that even in my business and sales, they not only saw some of the stresses but have tasted the goodness. 

They have experienced the painfully slow internet to the point of it being commented that its almost better not to have it at all then to expect it will be working well.

They have seen how we run out of talk time and have to top up with scratch off cards for the phone. In one way or another they have had to wait...and wait.. and wait.

Welcome to Zambia.

When they stepped off the plane and Jackson’s and my hearts were beating so fast because we were excited, for me it was more than just excited to see them. 

It was to be able to have them enter into my life. A life, that in many ways has been closed off for the last 4 1/2 years. It was an excitement that maybe things might make a little more sense, maybe they can see.  

SO they made it. They conquered their own fears of the unknown, -of Africa, of eating and drinking the right things to not get sick, flying for hours and hours, bugs, spiders, lizards, mosquitos, malaria. 

It took some time for them to visit. Maybe just to see if this was for real. If this was really going to be home. More than a passing fancy, or an emotional high, but to see that we are here.  (for now...)  - that’s for you mom, it’s easier that way. :)    

And in all of this they were telling me they love me. they love us, they came for all of us. but, it’s me.  

I know. Loud and Clear.

And if they are not ever able to come again, -if health, finances or desire fails it’s really alright with me, because I am content and happy!

They came!