We've never been big into American Thanksgiving. It was just the second round of turkey in a three-month extravaganza that marked the end of the year. My siblings and I were born in the States to Canadian parents, so we've all grown up as dual citizens, complete with the resulting double holidays. Canadian Thanksgiving was first, and seemed to mean a lot more, since that's when we actually got to see the cousins. Then came American, which really only felt like a wind-up for the big show in December. That's when we got to pile into the van again and make the eight or nine hour trek back up to granny's where gummy bears after meals and Christmas crackers with silly paper hats awaited.
They were all together. My whole family, plus the little one I've never met, and it hurt my heart so much not to be with them. It's hard being overseas, eh? my brother asked me. I said yes, but the truth is that I haven't ever given it too much thought. With internet and phone lines at my fingertips, it sometimes feels like I'm just in the next room, not half the world away.
Last night, the reality started to sink in. My family is incredibly close, despite the fact that we've grown up in separate countries. We have something, my cousin often says, that no other family does. It's hard to put a finger on. We don't really have to though; we all know what she's talking about, because we're family. But if this is what I'm being called to, this life and these people and this continent, then Mya's birth isn't the only thing I'm going to miss. It's going to be a lifetime of experiences lived apart from my family. Last night, that thought was so hard to wrap my heart around.
Oh, child, He says to me through my tears, nowhere did I say this would be easy. But you need to hold them lightly, this family I've given you. You need to be ready to turn your back on them, all of them, even Mya, if this is really what I've called you to. Just realize that what I have in store for you is more than you can imagine even in your wildest dreams. Trust Me.

