LAST DAY IN SEOUL—March 6
“I made it,” I thought to myself as Luca’s breaths deepened into sleep, his head cuddled on my chest.
From his mattress on the floor, I waited to move him until he was completely out. I looked at his room’s bare walls above me. The sailboats are gone. The whales are gone. Just beige paint to comfort him during naps and nighttime.
Maybe that’s why he skipped a few naps this week.
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| Wait, what? My toys are going away? |
The whole house is bare, really, and Luca hasn’t been quite himself since last week after the movers packed out the trappings of our past two years in Seoul: He clings to me more; he spills things more; he needs more attention; he skips more naps.
Those days—the skipped nap days—are the hardest for me. Between organizing our packout, attempting to eat through our pantry and give away food we won’t finish, purging cleaning supplies and clothes I never wear and humidifiers we won’t need and so on and so on, there’s plenty I’ve had to accomplish for our international move. Plus the emotional toll of preparing for my entire life to change, again.
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| "Big Lellow Truck!!" |
I can’t really get much done if Luca doesn’t nap. Even in normal times, he needs a lot of my attention. But now, he is going through his own emotional crisis, watching his entire home transform into a bare beige blah. Looking for the basketball hoop, foam letters and favorite sippy cups we sent away.
He loved watching the men load everything into boxes when he dropped by during packout with the woman who was babysitting—he decided the mover’s scales were better suited as seats for him—and he adored the big “lellow truck” waiting outside. And, at first, he liked the new discoveries afforded by a near-empty house.
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| "Don't Pack me!!" |
But then he realized everything was gone.
It’s hard to hang around after all the arrangements are made, after everything is packed. If I’d known how hard Luca would take life in our empty house post-packout, I might have tried to follow the movers out the door and leave Seoul early.
But then, I would have missed precious goodbyes. I would have missed that last trip for delicious dalkkalbi, that last kimchi jiggae. That last ladies’ night in with wine and chocolate and chatting. That final Bible study, when the women who had been a lifeline for me the past two years prayed for me and for my family.
With the ribbons of our Seoul tour tied neatly in bows, all I have left is the leaving.
I thanked God Luca fell asleep today, allowing me a little bit of a break to eat lunch, catch up on emails, and try to prepare as best as I can for tomorrow. Our departure.
I am so ready to go.
* * * *
LAST WEEK OF HOME LEAVE—March 25
“Phew,” I thought to myself as Luca finally drifted from sobs to sleep on the floor mattress in Joe’s parents’ spare room. I kissed my son's cheek and deftly slid the sippy cup from his arm’s grip, replacing it with his stuffed sock monkey, one of the few favorite toys we packed in our suitcases to help him transition.
He spent the morning blissfully playing with his grandparents while Joe and I had an errand-running-and-gyro-lunch date, but by the time we got home at naptime, Luca was toast.
It happens, or so I’m learning.
It’s been rare in Luca’s lifetime that I’ve gotten to go out on my own. Like now, I sit solo, sipping a caramel macchiato at a Long Island mall Starbucks while Luca naps under Halmonee’s care.
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| Four Generations of Kim Men |
We’ve spent the past week at Joe’s parents’ house, catching up with relatives, celebrating Joe's grandfather’s 97th birthday, and easing back into normal American life.
For foreign service officers and their families, home leave is a required and valuable time to reconnect with family and culture after living abroad for a few years, and before taking any necessary courses for the next posting. The idea, in my understanding, is to keep diplomats American enough to represent the country well.
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| Peek-a-boo! |
Since my parents were on vacation at the beginning of our home leave, we decided to spend the first week and a half soaking up vitamin D under Southern California’s sun and visit my immediate family later. We got to spend the first few days at my Auntie Irene and Uncle Jimmie’s house, catching up with dear relatives and playing peakaboo with my cousin Mike.
I got to spend a morning with one of my best friends and college roommates—there’s something invigorating about friendships that span decades and life stages.
These last few weeks of home leave have been as wonderful and peaceful as those last two weeks in Seoul were stressful.
Luca settled quickly into life in Huntington Beach. It was only four days, but all three of us were delighted to decompress in such a comfortable and (for me) familiar place. Once he recovered from jet lag, Luca was ecstatic to see the boats and the tiny beach of Balboa Island.
One afternoon after a couple days at my aunt and uncle’s place, Luca looked at me. “Home? Home?” he said, his usual method of telling me he’s ready to head back to our house.
I sighed. How to explain it?
“Well, Luca, today,
this is our home.”
The look on his face changed, curious. He took in the room as if seeing it for the first time.
Oops. I quickly tried to correct myself.
“No, um,” I fumbled. “Right now we’re on
vacation! We’ll go to San Diego next week, to the beach, and then we’ll take a plane to Halmonee and Harabogee’s house.”
How can I explain to a toddler that we won’t be at a home of our own for months?
But he seems to have settled into the rhythm of moving around, and he seems to grasp, to some extent, the concept of home
for now. He was thrilled to arrive in our San Diego rental apartment, and quickly started to refer to it as “home.”
And boy did we all wish San Diego could be our new home.
The sand.
The waves.
The sunsets.
The tacos.
And, surprisingly, the friends.
Going into our home leave, I could barely think past luggage and carry-ons and Luca’s toys and snacks and allergen-free meals. I couldn’t get my mind around specific plans, other than housing and transportation. If I knew before arriving how many friends we’d see in San Diego, I would have been completely overwhelmed. But thanks to spontaneous friends—including a high school friend I hadn't seen in 14 years—we made plans on the fly, as we felt like it.
It was such a rich time catching up with people Joe and I care about, and we were over the moon watching Luca’s joy in chasing waves and digging sand with his construction toys.
There is something infinitely satisfying in watching my son’s elation. With all the drastic changes for our family, we could simply enjoy each other and the beauty of the sea.
Have you ever said you needed a vacation from your vacation?
Well, there’s not much rest in a vacation with a toddler: We played hard, and we slept hard, and like all good vacations, the end came far too soon. But at least we had more wonderful times to look forward to.
Luca was a champ on the five-and-a-half hour flight, and, after he got a solid meal in him, he was delighted to be with Halmonee, Harabogee, and Samchun (Uncle Albert)—and with all the awesome toys they thought to prepare for his visit.
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| "I like RIB!" Luca loving Halmonee's cooking. |
This week, we’re trying to move at a slower pace and to take advantage of Joe’s parents’ generosity in helping us take breaks.
Seoul seems a world away. Our two years were full of fun, exploration, excellent Korean food, challenges, struggle, and growth.
We learned the subway system. I learned some Korean and Joe improved his. We made friends who were more like family. We became parents. We learned what it means to watch our child suffer. We learned what it means to watch our child heal. We had 5 emergency room visits, 4 hospitalizations (including birth), and one medical evacuation. We sold the car Joe bought the day of our first date.
So many things can change in two years.
In San Diego, we visited a church one Sunday. The sermon was about relying on God for our daily bread, and though most of the examples the speaker used were to do with money, I realized the message was fitting for my own heart in this transient phase of life.
After several days in the United States, the shiny newness of vacation wore off, and as the jet lag fog started to clear, I was thinking of the mountain we have to climb as a family in these next few months: The travel, the waiting, the separation from Joe when I go see my family. How could I help Luca with all the change and uncertainty? How could I deal with it myself? The questions pulled at the bottom of my stomach, telling me I couldn’t simply relax. It’s hard to focus on the current day when big changes are rolling in like the waves off Pacific Beach, one after another.
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| What, that's not how you put it on? |
But God is faithful, the sermon reminded me. I know he will provide the emotional energy to get through tomorrow, for me and for my family of three. I can live freely in each day; I can be present. Tomorrow has enough worries of its own.
Seoul is in the past for us now, and though we have months before we are settled into our new post, this transition phase is a gift. If I blink, I’ll miss it. If I worry through it, I’ll forget to treasure it.
This life Joe and I chose is transient. We might as well enjoy it.
