Dear Friends, I owe you an update on the book, and an apology. Life events have slowed down the process of getting the final version of the manuscript out, which means a delay in getting the book to you. I am so grateful for your support and ask you to be patient a little longer.
We’ve been trying hard to adjust to our life in America. I keep telling myself it’s really not bad. And it’s really not. But the small frustrations add up over time, and the undercurrent of unpleasantness in this extremely conservative remote town (perhaps indicative of other/larger parts of the country?), and our inability to settle or feel comfortable here and meet like-minded people, has been a dripping tap, slowly filling a pool that’s turned stagnant (our corner of Maryland is reclaimed swampland, after all) and I’ve had trouble keeping my head above water.
Whatever frustrations Jon has with his work, he handles professionally and with good grace. My frustration has largely centred around the unhappiness of the children and my concern for their welfare. We tried our hardest to make it work. Since we moved here I’ve put all my energies into creating a fun and happy space for the children (new activities, enough down-time from busy school days to relax and play, days out and a bit of travelling, participating in school and community events), but nothing seemed to quieten the growing anxieties they had about living here.
Little things and bigger things, some uncomfortable, some awful, that over time and combined became intolerable; like the other children chanting “Build the wall! Build the wall!” on the school bus, or the children’s classmates telling them Hillary Clinton murders babies, or their bus driver telling them not to walk home from the bus stop alone because there’s been a van driving around after school snatching children from the streets of our “good” neighbourhood and selling them in the “bad” neighbourhood just down the road. Life became frightening and exhausting for them. They cried at bedtime most nights.
The upshot is the children are now back in the UK with my parents, and back at the school they left before we came here. I am living between two worlds – half my time in America with Jon and half in England. My parents have been exceptionally generous with their time and energy. I always believed the adage that it takes a village to raise a family, but I never, ever, expected that I would place my children in the care of someone else for extended periods of time, let alone on a different continent. I know they are well-cared for, and I feel grateful the children will get to spend time with their grandparents.
Jon, meanwhile, feels terribly guilty that his job has caused our family to be separated again. This post was supposed to reunite us after three years apart. Prior to this move, I was in Gloucestershire with the children and he was three hours away in Lincolnshire, coming home at weekends. We’ve effectively swapped a three-hour drive for an eight-hour flight. The change in our family dynamic is unbelievable and we miss them so much. But to see them thrive at school, regain their enthusiasm for learning, and chat wildly and without fear about all the things they’re doing is absolutely worth it.
The week I came back to America after getting the children settled in the UK, there was a shooting at the local high school. I was working on my manuscript in a little coffee shop near the Naval base after dropping Jon at work, when a stream of police cars, ambulances and emergency responders came screaming past the window heading for the school a couple of blocks away. It was the 18th school shooting in America since January 1st 2018. That this could happen on my doorstep, at a school my children could be attending, was utterly sickening. But, more than that, I felt guilty that our decision to send them home somehow felt vindicated, like this was proof we’d done the right thing. Of course, it wasn’t. It wasn’t about me. It’s amazing how fear makes you selfish.
The original scope for this project didn’t include the time we’d be in America, but I’ve realised over the past few months that this experience, overwhelming as it is, is integral to my story, so this is what I’m working on now.
My apologies again for the delay in getting this book to you. It’s been my imperative to put my family and their wellbeing foremost. Things seem to be more manageable now. I’m so grateful for your patience.