As 2009 draws to a close, I have been looking back at the good and the bad of this year. There was LOTS of bad in 2009. But I am choosing to focus on the good things I have learned.
I have realized that I:
am much stronger emotionally than I realized
enjoy writing now more than I ever did
am a better writer than I thought I was
am very grateful for the opportunity to co-author a book
yearn for a simpler life
have too much 'stuff'
am quite willing to take risks and leaps of faith, and more often than not, things will turn out OK
have a good sense of humor, which I use to help me cope with stress
am a positive person, not the negative soul I always thought I was
now understand the disconnect between the life I live and the life I want
really love outdoor and architectural photography
have been blessed with a body that has withstood the rigors of more than 30 years of running, and am looking forward to many more
have a vision of the life that awaits me once I retire and move to New Mexico
am learning to better support my daughter emotionally
have so much for which to be grateful
can actually lose weight
can relieve much of the pain of bursitis in my hips by stretching twice a day
I am looking forward to making some major life changes in 2010, and to continuing the changes I began in 2009. For 2010, I want to
move to New Mexico and start a new life with my daughter
run 600 miles
continue to care for and support my daughter
do more hiking and bicycling
get involved with OrphanBaby, a non-profit that helps children in Ukrainian orphanages by training caregivers and medical staff to better meet their emotional needs
volunteer with my daughter at a no-kill animal shelter
And there is one more thing, which will remain private.
I am looking forward to moving to New Mexico and getting settled in our new house. It will be stressful, certainly, but I am confident the benefits will far outweigh the stresses. I'm also looking forward to even more personal growth and discoveries about myself.
As the Russians say, "S Novym Godom!" (Happy New Year!)
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Looking Back, Looking Forward
This has been a challenging, to say the least, yet rewarding year. My daughter has been through some extremely difficult times, which in turn wreaked havoc on me both physically and emotionally. That's the bad.
Now the good: This also has been a year of change and growth for both of us. We are gradually rebuilding our relationship, although much work remains to be done. I have seen many positive changes in my daughter, in her attitude, in her self-confidence, in her interest in arts and crafts, photography and reading, in her realization that taking care of her body with proper food and hydration makes her feel good. She is much more caring toward others, and able to better communicate and acknowledge her feelings and emotions in an open, positive way. She enjoys going to visit 'her' lady in a local nursing home, something she does regularly. She is learning how to give and to accept love.
I, too, have experienced growth and positive change this year. I have learned to take better care of myself. I have lost 8-10 pounds simply by reducing the amount of sugar and carbohydrates in my diet. I have rediscovered my love of writing and photography, talents that never went away but were ignored for too long. I realized how very much I enjoy words -- manipulating them to get just the right sense in a sentence, trying to find a better way of saying something to convey the right meaning and connotation, reading and savoring a particularly well-written sentence or paragraph. I now fully realize the pleasure I get from writing, especially while working on a book about my experiences as the mother of an adopted daughter. This has been an empowering and therapeutic experience. I also have learned to be a better mother to my daughter, who will turn 16 in a few days. Finally, after all the drama and trauma of this year, I am emerging a person with a greater sense of calm, a better sense of self, and a sense of where my life is headed.
We will visit our new house in New Mexico together (the first time my daughter will see it) over the Christmas holiday. We're going to paint her bedroom (her current thinking is that she wants to just 'splash' some contrasting paint onto the walls but leave them their current color) and paint the Pepto-Bismol pink guest room as well. More important than the work to be done, however, is the opportunity to spend time together. She mentioned once that working together to paint the room/s would be a good chance for us to bond.
From there, we will drive to Santa Fe, an amazing city any time of year, but it's supposed to be magical during Christmas. The lights, the farolitos (brown paper bags with sand in the bottom into which a lighted candle is set) and maybe a dusting of snow, should provide a beautiful setting for Christmas. We will walk Canyon Road on Christmas Eve, enjoying the farolitos displayed in rows along walkways and on top of adobe houses.
When my daughter asked recently what I want for Christmas, I could think of nothing material. I told her that I have all I want or need: her, our dogs, a secure job, my health, a new home in New Mexico, and the promise of a new life in the coming year. Work will continue on the book, I am exploring some new volunteer opportunities, and I have taken up 'active wishing' for some things that are on my private 'wish list.'
After a turbulent year, it seems that we are starting to enter calmer waters. The days and months ahead are full of promise. We both have learned valuable lessons and gained important insights into ourselves and each other. 2010 won't be perfect; no year ever is. But we can look forward to a year of continued growth and change, a deeper bond between us, new skills to deal with life's challenges, and a new life in a state with the most beautiful skies I have ever seen.
We wish you all a wonderful Christmas season, happy holidays, and a bright, fulfilling New Year full of love and dreams fulfilled.
Now the good: This also has been a year of change and growth for both of us. We are gradually rebuilding our relationship, although much work remains to be done. I have seen many positive changes in my daughter, in her attitude, in her self-confidence, in her interest in arts and crafts, photography and reading, in her realization that taking care of her body with proper food and hydration makes her feel good. She is much more caring toward others, and able to better communicate and acknowledge her feelings and emotions in an open, positive way. She enjoys going to visit 'her' lady in a local nursing home, something she does regularly. She is learning how to give and to accept love.
I, too, have experienced growth and positive change this year. I have learned to take better care of myself. I have lost 8-10 pounds simply by reducing the amount of sugar and carbohydrates in my diet. I have rediscovered my love of writing and photography, talents that never went away but were ignored for too long. I realized how very much I enjoy words -- manipulating them to get just the right sense in a sentence, trying to find a better way of saying something to convey the right meaning and connotation, reading and savoring a particularly well-written sentence or paragraph. I now fully realize the pleasure I get from writing, especially while working on a book about my experiences as the mother of an adopted daughter. This has been an empowering and therapeutic experience. I also have learned to be a better mother to my daughter, who will turn 16 in a few days. Finally, after all the drama and trauma of this year, I am emerging a person with a greater sense of calm, a better sense of self, and a sense of where my life is headed.
We will visit our new house in New Mexico together (the first time my daughter will see it) over the Christmas holiday. We're going to paint her bedroom (her current thinking is that she wants to just 'splash' some contrasting paint onto the walls but leave them their current color) and paint the Pepto-Bismol pink guest room as well. More important than the work to be done, however, is the opportunity to spend time together. She mentioned once that working together to paint the room/s would be a good chance for us to bond.
From there, we will drive to Santa Fe, an amazing city any time of year, but it's supposed to be magical during Christmas. The lights, the farolitos (brown paper bags with sand in the bottom into which a lighted candle is set) and maybe a dusting of snow, should provide a beautiful setting for Christmas. We will walk Canyon Road on Christmas Eve, enjoying the farolitos displayed in rows along walkways and on top of adobe houses.
When my daughter asked recently what I want for Christmas, I could think of nothing material. I told her that I have all I want or need: her, our dogs, a secure job, my health, a new home in New Mexico, and the promise of a new life in the coming year. Work will continue on the book, I am exploring some new volunteer opportunities, and I have taken up 'active wishing' for some things that are on my private 'wish list.'
After a turbulent year, it seems that we are starting to enter calmer waters. The days and months ahead are full of promise. We both have learned valuable lessons and gained important insights into ourselves and each other. 2010 won't be perfect; no year ever is. But we can look forward to a year of continued growth and change, a deeper bond between us, new skills to deal with life's challenges, and a new life in a state with the most beautiful skies I have ever seen.
We wish you all a wonderful Christmas season, happy holidays, and a bright, fulfilling New Year full of love and dreams fulfilled.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Callings
Last summer, I was trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Actually, my thoughts had turned to my post-retirement life, but I hadn’t given it a lot of thought. I was in a job that was secure, paid well and had good benefits, but it bored me to tears. There was nothing rewarding or challenging about it.
With my daughter away, I had time to really start to think about my future. Could I retire now or would I have to work a couple more years? Where did I want to live during retirement? What would be the best place for me and for my daughter? Could I start a small business with my photography and writing, or would it continue as a fun hobby? Would I remain alone the rest of my life, or was there room for a male companion at some point?
I spent a wonderful, relaxing week by myself in New Mexico, quietly celebrating my birthday, living according to my own schedule, hiking, taking photographs and just exploring. Some days I sat in the sun on the Santa Fe plaza, or in the beautiful Basilica Cathedral of St. Francis of Assisi. I hiked in Bandelier National Monument and clambered up four 10' wooden ladders to reach an ancient puebloan kiva. I photographed flowers and wildlife at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge.
One day, I realized how out of sync my life in Silicon Valley is with the ‘real’ me. I noticed that I was nearly always outside: hiking, walking around, dining on the patio, or just driving with the windows down, something I seldom do at home.
After I got home, I started reading a book about callings and how to live an authentic life. It had sat on my book shelf untouched for several years. One day, while working at my computer, I noticed the book. The timing seemed right to start reading. Although much of the book seemed rather abstract and philosophical, I continued to read every day. I knew that my life in Silicon Valley was not authentic. The rapid pace of life, the overcrowding and noise made it very clear that I was a person out of sync with her preferred reality. Spending my days inside an artificially lit room (in some cases with no window) and breathing artificially treated air was stifling me.
One Friday afternoon when I got home from work, I was blown away by how much energy I had. Obviously I was still hanging on to some of what I had learned from talking with my daughter’s therapist and while on vacation. I did laundry and hung it on the line to dry; I vacuumed the entire house. I wanted to go for a bike ride, but a leaking tire stopped that. So instead, I did the grocery shopping, then cleaned out a bookcase. When I finally went to bed, I decided to spend a few minutes reading my ‘callings’ book. Suddenly, the words on one page leaped out at me.
I had read previously that callings are not necessarily passions; they may in fact be things that we feel unprepared for or actually dislike. Then I read: “Expect that through the right lens, all our encounters will appear full of thunderbolts and instruction. Such encounters might include:
An offer to collaborate with someone on a project that draws you in an entirely new direction.
Some harrowing challenge is imposed on you.”
Suddenly I had a vision of my future – I would work to support and educate people about the challenges of raising adopted kids. The ‘offer to collaborate’ was my daughter’s therapist’s invitation to co-author a book with her. The ‘harrowing challenge’ was dealing with my daughter’s problems and what to do about them.
I started crying and wondering how to determine whether this would in fact be my future calling. Not photography, not writing, but working on behalf of other adoptive parents and their struggling kids. How would I know if this was real?
My first reaction was to try to put an action plan into place, to make the calling a reality. But now I am letting it unfold at its own pace. And it is unfolding.
Since then, I have written more than 125 pages of our book, which we believe will give hope to other parents struggling to understand and deal with their adopted kids' issues. I am being considered for a position on the board of directors of a non-profit organization dedicated to improving the lives of children in Ukrainian orphanages by educating the physicians and caregivers responsible for their care. The therapist also said that she thought I would be a good person to run a group home for struggling adopted children and their parents, to provide respite and education for the parents, and a safe place for the children. As of now, this remains the therapist’s dream, but I was amazed at how these things surfaced in short order. I have been approached by a couple of people with questions about dealing with adopted kids' problems, and I offered what guidance and support I could. And of course, I have bought a new home in New Mexico.
I am relaxed about my future and I'm still letting it unfold on its own schedule. I have learned that trying to force something never works. If this calling is authentic, it will happen as it is meant to happen. I have taken the first step toward a more authentic life by buying a house in a state I love, one with incredible natural beauty, mountains, the bluest of skies and a fascinating architectural style. It offers wonderful photographic opportunities. I will continue working on the book, and who knows where that endeavor will lead?
My life this year has been full of challenges, but also opportunities. I am looking forward to the next chapter.
With my daughter away, I had time to really start to think about my future. Could I retire now or would I have to work a couple more years? Where did I want to live during retirement? What would be the best place for me and for my daughter? Could I start a small business with my photography and writing, or would it continue as a fun hobby? Would I remain alone the rest of my life, or was there room for a male companion at some point?
I spent a wonderful, relaxing week by myself in New Mexico, quietly celebrating my birthday, living according to my own schedule, hiking, taking photographs and just exploring. Some days I sat in the sun on the Santa Fe plaza, or in the beautiful Basilica Cathedral of St. Francis of Assisi. I hiked in Bandelier National Monument and clambered up four 10' wooden ladders to reach an ancient puebloan kiva. I photographed flowers and wildlife at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge.
One day, I realized how out of sync my life in Silicon Valley is with the ‘real’ me. I noticed that I was nearly always outside: hiking, walking around, dining on the patio, or just driving with the windows down, something I seldom do at home.
After I got home, I started reading a book about callings and how to live an authentic life. It had sat on my book shelf untouched for several years. One day, while working at my computer, I noticed the book. The timing seemed right to start reading. Although much of the book seemed rather abstract and philosophical, I continued to read every day. I knew that my life in Silicon Valley was not authentic. The rapid pace of life, the overcrowding and noise made it very clear that I was a person out of sync with her preferred reality. Spending my days inside an artificially lit room (in some cases with no window) and breathing artificially treated air was stifling me.
One Friday afternoon when I got home from work, I was blown away by how much energy I had. Obviously I was still hanging on to some of what I had learned from talking with my daughter’s therapist and while on vacation. I did laundry and hung it on the line to dry; I vacuumed the entire house. I wanted to go for a bike ride, but a leaking tire stopped that. So instead, I did the grocery shopping, then cleaned out a bookcase. When I finally went to bed, I decided to spend a few minutes reading my ‘callings’ book. Suddenly, the words on one page leaped out at me.
I had read previously that callings are not necessarily passions; they may in fact be things that we feel unprepared for or actually dislike. Then I read: “Expect that through the right lens, all our encounters will appear full of thunderbolts and instruction. Such encounters might include:
An offer to collaborate with someone on a project that draws you in an entirely new direction.
Some harrowing challenge is imposed on you.”
Suddenly I had a vision of my future – I would work to support and educate people about the challenges of raising adopted kids. The ‘offer to collaborate’ was my daughter’s therapist’s invitation to co-author a book with her. The ‘harrowing challenge’ was dealing with my daughter’s problems and what to do about them.
I started crying and wondering how to determine whether this would in fact be my future calling. Not photography, not writing, but working on behalf of other adoptive parents and their struggling kids. How would I know if this was real?
My first reaction was to try to put an action plan into place, to make the calling a reality. But now I am letting it unfold at its own pace. And it is unfolding.
Since then, I have written more than 125 pages of our book, which we believe will give hope to other parents struggling to understand and deal with their adopted kids' issues. I am being considered for a position on the board of directors of a non-profit organization dedicated to improving the lives of children in Ukrainian orphanages by educating the physicians and caregivers responsible for their care. The therapist also said that she thought I would be a good person to run a group home for struggling adopted children and their parents, to provide respite and education for the parents, and a safe place for the children. As of now, this remains the therapist’s dream, but I was amazed at how these things surfaced in short order. I have been approached by a couple of people with questions about dealing with adopted kids' problems, and I offered what guidance and support I could. And of course, I have bought a new home in New Mexico.
I am relaxed about my future and I'm still letting it unfold on its own schedule. I have learned that trying to force something never works. If this calling is authentic, it will happen as it is meant to happen. I have taken the first step toward a more authentic life by buying a house in a state I love, one with incredible natural beauty, mountains, the bluest of skies and a fascinating architectural style. It offers wonderful photographic opportunities. I will continue working on the book, and who knows where that endeavor will lead?
My life this year has been full of challenges, but also opportunities. I am looking forward to the next chapter.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
How Much Is Too Much?
While walking the dogs on this cold, dark morning, and related to recent writing about gratitude and Thanksgiving, I suddenly asked myself "How much is too much?"
This question often pertains to material things: How much house is too much? How many pairs of shoes are too many? How many flat-screen TVs are too many for one house? But the question can be asked about non-material things as well: How much exercise is too much? How much time spent on work or household chores, rather than with loved ones, is too much? How much food is too much? How much television watching is too much?
As Americans, many of us suffer from "too much." As a country, we are woefully overweight, often the result of eating too much. We worry too much about what others think, about getting the latest fad in personal electronics or cars or designer clothing. We focus too much on getting ahead in our careers, often to the detriment of our families and relationships, or our health.
Our homes are filled with too much stuff. I, too, am guilty of having 'too much.' I recently bought a BlackBerry, despite having a perfectly nice cell phone that is only a few months old. I don't like a cluttered home, yet my place, despite numerous trips to drop off donations at the local Goodwill and library, still has 'too much' stuff. There are too many books to fit on the shelves, too many pieces of art to hang on the walls, too much food in the pantry and garage, too many clothes in the closets, too many CDs on the rack.
So as we enter this season of reflection and thanksgiving, and for some of us, the celebration of the birth of a savior, let us think about what is most important in our lives. Is it the 'too much' stuff that clutters our lives and our homes? Or is it the often-overlooked and neglected, intangible things: our relationships, our good deeds, our health, the opportunities we have to make a difference in someone else's life?
It isn't the quantity -- of years, of friends, of money or of things -- but rather the quality of our lives and our relationships -- that is most important. I love the concept of simple abundance, and my commitment at this special time of year is to learn more about this concept and to embrace it more fully, to make it a bigger part of my life.
This question often pertains to material things: How much house is too much? How many pairs of shoes are too many? How many flat-screen TVs are too many for one house? But the question can be asked about non-material things as well: How much exercise is too much? How much time spent on work or household chores, rather than with loved ones, is too much? How much food is too much? How much television watching is too much?
As Americans, many of us suffer from "too much." As a country, we are woefully overweight, often the result of eating too much. We worry too much about what others think, about getting the latest fad in personal electronics or cars or designer clothing. We focus too much on getting ahead in our careers, often to the detriment of our families and relationships, or our health.
Our homes are filled with too much stuff. I, too, am guilty of having 'too much.' I recently bought a BlackBerry, despite having a perfectly nice cell phone that is only a few months old. I don't like a cluttered home, yet my place, despite numerous trips to drop off donations at the local Goodwill and library, still has 'too much' stuff. There are too many books to fit on the shelves, too many pieces of art to hang on the walls, too much food in the pantry and garage, too many clothes in the closets, too many CDs on the rack.
So as we enter this season of reflection and thanksgiving, and for some of us, the celebration of the birth of a savior, let us think about what is most important in our lives. Is it the 'too much' stuff that clutters our lives and our homes? Or is it the often-overlooked and neglected, intangible things: our relationships, our good deeds, our health, the opportunities we have to make a difference in someone else's life?
It isn't the quantity -- of years, of friends, of money or of things -- but rather the quality of our lives and our relationships -- that is most important. I love the concept of simple abundance, and my commitment at this special time of year is to learn more about this concept and to embrace it more fully, to make it a bigger part of my life.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Thanksgiving Thoughts
This year, despite many, many trying times and a huge amount of on-going stress, I truly do have much for which to be thankful. My daughter is in a safe place, getting the help she needs to deal with her demons resulting from a traumatic childhood in Russia. I have just closed on a fabulous house in New Mexico, and I am looking forward to moving to that beautiful state permanently in about 7 months. I am very disappointed that I can't move at the end of this year as originally planned, but the move is in sight.
Unlike millions of Americans, I have weathered the current economic recession in pretty good shape. My investments have increased by more than 4.5% this year, my job with the federal government is secure, and I have good benefits, including health insurance, which so many Americans don't have. And unlike many others, I have no debt other than two mortgages -- and that's only a temporary situation until I sell my house in California in a few months.
I am healthy, and just today I ran my 600th mile of 2009. My hips have been hurting, so I will probably rest for the remainder of the year and then resume running on January 1. In the meantime, I can enjoy walking, bicycling and hiking. I have lost 8-9 pounds this year simply by cutting back on the carbs in my diet. My blood pressure and resting pulse are excellent, and I am not afflicted with any of the problems that beset so many people of my age.
I have been given the opportunity to co-author a book, which allows me to pursue one of my favorite activities, non-fiction writing. I have set up a Web site featuring some of my best Southwest photographs for sale. I haven't sold anything yet, but I remain hopeful. An exciting volunteer opportunity is on the near horizon for me as well.
This has been a very difficult year for me. But I have learned a lot about myself in the process, and I am optimistic that what I have learned will make me a better mother and a better person overall.
So when I sit down to Thanksgiving dinner this year, I will be more mindful than ever of the many blessings in my life.
Unlike millions of Americans, I have weathered the current economic recession in pretty good shape. My investments have increased by more than 4.5% this year, my job with the federal government is secure, and I have good benefits, including health insurance, which so many Americans don't have. And unlike many others, I have no debt other than two mortgages -- and that's only a temporary situation until I sell my house in California in a few months.
I am healthy, and just today I ran my 600th mile of 2009. My hips have been hurting, so I will probably rest for the remainder of the year and then resume running on January 1. In the meantime, I can enjoy walking, bicycling and hiking. I have lost 8-9 pounds this year simply by cutting back on the carbs in my diet. My blood pressure and resting pulse are excellent, and I am not afflicted with any of the problems that beset so many people of my age.
I have been given the opportunity to co-author a book, which allows me to pursue one of my favorite activities, non-fiction writing. I have set up a Web site featuring some of my best Southwest photographs for sale. I haven't sold anything yet, but I remain hopeful. An exciting volunteer opportunity is on the near horizon for me as well.
This has been a very difficult year for me. But I have learned a lot about myself in the process, and I am optimistic that what I have learned will make me a better mother and a better person overall.
So when I sit down to Thanksgiving dinner this year, I will be more mindful than ever of the many blessings in my life.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
The Second Step is Underway
This morning I went to the bank and wired the money to a New Mexico title company as a down payment on my new house. This afternoon, I met with a notary at work and got four documents notarized, then I took the entire fat package of paperwork to the nearby FedEx box for delivery tomorrow.
As much as I want this house, actually buying it, withdrawing a large amount of money from savings and completing the paperwork is an amazingly stressful process. Add to that the realization that for the next several months I will have not one, but two mortgage payments, and have to pay property taxes and insurance on two properties, and it becomes almost unfathomable.
I can't allow myself too much worry, and I have to have faith that everything will work out in the end. When I started this process, I decided, and I announced to one person, that I was going "to take a huge leap of faith and buy this house." That's exactly what I did. Since then, my plans to retire and move in January 2010 have been delayed for a few months.
I have to keep reminding myself that this is what I wanted. I loved this house from the time I first saw it in an Internet listing. Buying this house is, as the tired saying goes, the first step of the rest of my life. There is light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. I have to keep that light in mind. I have to remember that by next summer, I will have retired from my government job and I will be living in a beautiful house with a view of the Sandia Mountains. I will be enjoying the crisp air, the southwest ambiance, and a quiet homesite devoid of the incessant traffic and sirens and other noise that bombard me constantly now. My future, and a new life, await.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Taking the First Step Toward a New Life
In less than a week, I will close on my new home in Rio Rancho, NM. I found this house during an Internet search, fell in love with it, and after some initial hesitation, flew to Albuquerque to take a look at it. I was picked up at the airport by a Realtor, looked at fewer than six houses, and flew home that same evening.
A few days later, I made an offer on the house. It has everything I was looking for. It's only 12 years old, is a pueblo style, 1 story, with a very southwestern interior. It has lots of windows, is on a 1/2-acre lot and has a view of the mountains from the living room. The house is nearly twice the size of my little house in California. The front is enclosed by an adobe wall to make a beautiful courtyard. All the homes in the area are on 1/2-acre lots, and they all have back yards that face the mountains. The road in the area is unpaved, and the house is about a 10-minute drive from shopping. It couldn't be more different than where I live now.
Buying the house was just the first step on the road to my new, post-retirement life. As part of my plan for that new life, I'm reading a book about wishing. It's called The Wishing Year, by Noelle Oxenhandler. It was recommended to me by a woman with whom I have shared my recent dreams about my post-retirement life. I'm not even 1/3 of the way through the book, but I have started a daily practice of 'active wishing' for a couple of things that will, I hope, bring joy to my life.
I find the concept of 'active wishing' (that's my term for it) to be intriguing. Can wishing for something actually make it happen? Does 'putting it out there' really bring us the object for which we are wishing?
I can't answer that just yet, but I know that finding this house on the Internet and flying to New Mexico to see it seem very natural, almost pre-ordained. I'm not one to make rash decisions, but everything about this just seems right.
I still have to work for a few more months before I can move to the Land of Enchantment. But that's OK. I can do a lot of wishing during that time. Julia and I will spend a couple of days painting her bedroom in the new house over the Christmas holidays, then go to Santa Fe for Christmas. I have always wanted to spend Christmas in Santa Fe. The adobe buildings, the farolitos on Canyon Road on Christmas Eve, the snow, the beauty of St. Francis Cathedral -- all should make it a special holiday for us. And it will give us a taste of the new life that awaits us.
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