Tuesday, October 07, 2014
So to recap, on April 1, 2013 (no joke!), we moved from our home of 12 years in Skokie, Illinois, back to our childhood stomping grounds in the Northwest Suburbs of Tokyo.
Sidenote-- it is interesting, our current location is to the north and west of downtown Tokyo as our former north-and-westness was to downtown Chicago. My brain can't stop making connections and comparisons, though I try to stop it (see: overconsumption of sugar).
For our first six weeks here, we stayed with my parents-in-law at their apartment. Their willingness was pure grace. And I'm fairly sure we nearly drove them crazy. Therefore after 42 days had passed, we urgently needed our own space and so moved into an identical place below theirs. Which "happened" to be open. My mother in law had been keeping it open with her prayers for a year. Sounds strange, pretty sure it's true.
So. Having come here with 27 boxes of possessions, there were many things North Americans and also Japanese folks usually own we did not. I will not bore you and depress me with a complete list of things-we-used-to-have-but-now-don't. I will say one of the things in that category was a TV.
Out of more graciousness and generosity, the in-laws gave us a TV. It was not flat screen or plasmastic or bendy or all the things the very latest TVs have. In fact, it came with a convenient attached VCR. Please laugh. But know, the TV was fabulous and a lifesaver for our first year here and beyond. We even deliberately bought a few VHS tapes for the kids.... who does that?!
Getting to the point, several weeks ago, we got a new TV, pictured above. Please focus only on the TV, not on the laundry or my questionable front teeth. With VERY mixed feelings, I allowed the TV to be placed in our bedroom!! I have never allowed TV in our room before. Which is ridiculous, because in the meantime all manner of other glowing screens were AOK, even if not made by Apple. (gasp) Consistency is not my forte.
Now the kids have a tendency to gather in our room when they want to watch something. I thought I wouldn't like that, but as our room is "all the way" (meaning 10-12 strides) on the other side of the apartment, it actually provides me a bit of respite. They do that and I stay on this side of the place doing stuff. I guess it's mostly housework but it sometimes can feel less drudgerish if people aren't shrieking while it's happening.
Wow. My so-called processing is meandering hither and thither and all the way to yawn (get it?!!) without nearing that elusive destination, The Point. Hm. Warp Drive: maybe the point is this, I've been reluctant to admit it, but time, as God uses it to do so, is indeed a healer and a changer too. Look at us now, this is not what I imagined or expected, but I am thankful for it. Truly.
Also, maybe some things just don't have a point. Or maybe we aren't meant to see the point now. Or maybe the point is too sharp. Speculation is my forte.
PS I better put some links in here.
The Poop Process sounds disgusting but is not truly about poop and actually contains a thought that compelled me to take this blog thing up again.
Because I'll probably take many more days to "find my voice" and "tell my story" and "say what I mean" (go ahead and picture Chris Farrell and air quotes), I would like to please say an amen to Upside Down Success.
I'm increasingly persuaded of the importance of art in every life, and this story of a man who used his typewriter to create is inspiring!