A Very Long Time Ago

March 2022

On our last night in Sandpoint, we were frantically unpacking until late at night. We had to drive to several different storage units and fix what we could of the terrible packing job.  

The movers we hired were really roofers and they tossed our belongings like they were roofing. 

While working, we had a surprise visit from our elderly neighbor, Del (the one who had a tooth pulled and was stuck behind Peter).   As he walked into our mudpit, he reached out his arms for a side hug and asked, “How you doing, kid?”  

I nestled into his 6 ft 4 frame, a man I’d never met in person, and said, “Not good,” as my eyes filled with tears.  What I didn’t know at the time was that I could have added, “But a little better now,” knowing not everyone on the mountain didn’t want us there, knowing someone knew this was hard and cared.

  

As we were saying good-bye to him in the dark, another neighbor walked by with her dog and we visited--another nice person.  She is also on our mountain for the same reasons as our family.  She is a nurse that lost her job due to mandates.  What?!  Are there that many of us or is it fate that we’d end up on the same remote mountain?*  



“You have to talk to her mom!” my son, Caleb, who is on a mission in Vancouver Washington urged.  So I called this stranger that my son had met his first few weeks on his mission and we connected and our kids began writing letters to each other.  They have seven kids, the same ages, homeschool, and moved to Idaho for the same reasons we did.  The kids have loved writing each other and it has made the move more exciting for them.  They had us over for dinner one of the last nights in Sandpoint and we had so many “me too” moments. 

Penpal friends wishing Eleanora a Happy Birthday!

I’ve had other “me too” moments with random strangers during our move.  Who knew I would find my people by talking about having no water and using a bucket.  While looking for sawdust in some little town in Montana, the gal over the phone starts talking to me about the finer points of composting human waste and my options.  Another clerk at a store finds me the perfect solution when I tell her our needs—a bunch of free bags of wood pellets since they were damaged.  

In Idaho, a gas station clerk finds out about our bucket-peeing ways and commiserated about how they’ve been using an outhouse for years.  I tell her about my mixing bowl chamber pot.  She doesn’t think I’m weird or disgusting.  Instead she tells me they do the same thing on cold nights and we laugh as she tells me she thinks her mother is dehydrated from how strong her pee smells. 

A gem of a neighbor, Al, is happy to help and has big toys.  Bulldozer?  Yes, please.  
I ask, “Will you you let me know when there’s no snow on the ground, so I know when we can come back?”  
“You bet!”
The next day I get a call from him and he jovially says, “Just calling to let you know there’s still snow on the ground.”  
We laughed, but what he was really saying is, “You are welcome and I’m here for you.”
Can I already love someone so soon?  I think I do.

One of the sweetest notes of encouragement I was given during this journey was by my sister, Jennifer.  She wrote on Aug 24, 2021

"I’m praying for your family. You created a beautiful life in the Marshall Islands. You created a beautiful life in New Mexico. You will create a beautiful life again somewhere new and you will be off on an exciting adventure. Change is sometimes sad, usually stressful, and yet so full of possibilities. I like to believe that you will be upgrading to an even better life that fills you with even more joy than you have found in New Mexico."

I keep this post-it with the stages of grief in my folder

I still don’t know how we’re going to do it all.  I still don’t know if we can afford anything with the costs soaring and supply chain issues.  I’m still grieving.  Grieving for what we left and grieving for what we have to do, but I tell myself, “Empires fall, but people find a way.”  This month and especially this week has felt like a lifetime.  It was a very long time ago—last Monday.

The littles love making gifts for each other.  Asher's gift to Eleanora.

Eva's fish

SONG INSPIRATION
Trust in You by Elenyi

"Letting go of every single dream
I lay each one down at Your feet...
No matter what I face, You're by my side
When You don't move the mountains
I'm needing You to move
When You don't part the waters
I wish I could walk through
When You don't give the answers
As I cry out to You
I will trust, I will trust
I will trust in You"

Georgia by Katie Pruitt
"I wanted to be honest
I wanted to be brave…
He thought if I told the world
They would not see me as the same girl
They'd say I don't belong
I don't belong
Well, that's where he's wrong"

Apocalypse Lullaby by The Wailin' Jennys
"Hurricanes will come
Earthquakes break the walls
Oceans rise
Empires fall
Enter world, light unshown
Follow heart, follow home
Here we are, light unshown
One round heart, one round home"

*Turns out it may be both, as we've met more and more like us during our adventures.