Sylvia's Journal

It’s a beautiful humid summer morning in Manchester; the humidity is of the kind that makes arthritic joints hurt. This is one good thing about living in high and dry Kabul, my right knee is OK there most of the time.

We celebrated Father’s Day with all but Jim in a restaurant that looked out over the Gloucester wetlands – a breathtaking landscape that makes you want to reach for your watercolour kit. Our own watercolour kit has remained unused despite all our best intentions and will travel back with us to Kabul.

The vacation was hardly a time to rest and relax as it was filled with too many obligations, to others and to ourselves. I remember this phenomenon from when we lived in Lebanon, then Senegal. It’s a common problem for expats.

We know that our next ‘vacation’ here won’t be much of one either, what with the wedding and another short stay. The real vacations won’t happen until the end of this year and the spring of next, when we go on our regional R&Rs, regional meaning India or the Emirates, or wherever we want to go further in our central Asia neighbourhood.

Last night we said goodbye to Sita and Jim, after an unsuccessful attempt to meet with all sets of parents to talk about this wedding that is supposed to be low key and simple. We are getting vibes that this may not be the case but it is too late now. We are leaving and this is now in other people’s hands, primarily our daughters, it seems.

After my first swim of the year in Lobster Cove, with thunder clouds and lightning threatening on the horizon, we understood that our boat trip to Gravelly Island was off. Instead we went for a spin around town in Woody’s old model T Ford, a car bought by his mom in the 40s and kept in pristine condition.
Manchester, at this time of the year, and seen this way is even more beautiful than ever. We completed this farewell to our town with G&Ts overlooking the cove and that is when we both got sad.

I tried to remove the sadness with only partial success by walking for an hour at dusk while Axel and Tessa reviewed the financial aid application for her (hopefully) last year in school. She has reached the age at which she is (at least according to the IRS) no longer part of our household.

I had my last acupuncture session with Bill. He had come to the conclusion that way too much of my energy is in my head and so he stuck several needles in there to let some of the excess energy out and also to connect me with the chi of my ancestors. I told him that I wasn’t sure that would be very helpful since my ancestors along the female line were also very much in their heads. Still, it was another great session that was accompanied by the music of Ali Farka Toure. I emerged from the session in a better psychological state than going in and now feel quite ready to face the long trip home and the return to work.