Well, we've had an emotional 3 days as our last week with Venya is now upon us. This year's visit has flown by and I can't believe he'll be loading the bus on Saturday morning to return home. It will be a difficult goodbye, but all of my "goodbyes" in life have been difficult...it's just not something that I'm good at and I've tried not to apologize for that.
We took the time on Monday to call his mom for the last time before he returns home...we typically call her on Mondays or sometime early in the week so that he can "check in." While I had never spoken to her on the phone, I did have a sense of what she was like as a woman and as a mom, but that still didn't prepare me for Monday's call. I know her son, but I don't really know her.
I dialed the numbers like I usually do and handed the phone to Venya once I heard it begin to ring. I sat on one couch, he on the other, while they spoke to one another. At times he would laugh because he would let some English (instead of Russian) slip out of his mouth. He'd make eye contact with me and we'd chuckle. I'm sure this will happen some as he returns home with English still fresh in his mind.
I sat there watching him for a few minutes, trying to make some sense out of what was being said. While I was attempting to think in Russian and translating little bits and pieces in my head, I didn't expect what happened next. He stood up, walked over to where I was sitting and handed me the phone. Again, his mom does not speak English and I speak very little Russian, but he let me know that she wanted to speak to me...she was on the end of the line waiting.
I took the phone out of his hand, slowly held it to my ear and politely said, "Hello?" She began to speak with words and phrases that I did not fully understand but I continued to listen and then I heard what we moms all recognize in one another...a fragile voice struggling through the tears as she talked about her child, and I guess, her appreciation for his time here. In all she said, all I remember was, "Spa-see-bah, spa-see-bah" which she said over and over again. It means "thank you" and while I wanted to respond, for a moment, my own tears wouldn't let me. It was an emotional scene...me, on the phone with a woman I've never met, yet respect deeply and there are only a handful of words we have in common. She cried...I cried...and Venya just quietly sat there watching in his sweet way.
Well, Monday was sweet, but today was equally as sweet. Bobby had to say goodbye today and I don't know why, but for some reason I had thought that he would be a little better at it than I am. While he hated leaving with Venya still here, it's just the way our calendar of events fell...he'd had a trip planned for a long time and really couldn't (and shouldn't) miss it. So we all woke up at 5:45 this morning to take him to the airport and see him off.
While Venya hated that "Daddy" was leaving, he followed through with his typically sweet gestures of helping Bobby load his bag into the car and asking how many days he would be gone? Where was he going? And even, what about the office? He was curious, or I guess I should say, concerned. We pulled up, unloaded the suitcases and started the emotional process of saying goodbye. While it would only be a few days away from me and Sydney, we weren't too happy about it either. First, I hugged and kissed him and told him to be careful. Then Sydney (who was still in her pajamas) took her turn with hugs and kisses and "I love you Daddy." And finally, it was time for Venya.
Bobby, who was already crying, leaned toward him and they embraced with a strong and firm hold that men and boys often use when they hug. Bobby then kissed him on the top of the head, told him to be a good boy, and gradually let go as he said one last thing in Russian, "I love you." Venya said nothing as the tears started to fall. He climbed into the car, raised his knees to his chest and put his head down...hiding his face and all the emotion.
Love is a hard thing, because it means that you agree to a certain amount of pain in your life. We knew going into this experience that it would require that we were willing to love and to let go. It's a process that is difficult, yet necessary. Tatsianna (Venya's mom) is waiting for him in Belarus and we are grateful for that...and grateful that in the years to come, we have more Belarussian Summers ahead of us.
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