Arrived, for now

We arrived in Seattle late last night on the first stage of our journey West. The rest of the family is still asleep, and I wish I were too, but I can't seem to sleep in anymore. So, despite going to bed at 12:30 am PT (3:30 am ET), here I am, up at 6:30 watching the sun try to rise through the gray skies over Seattle.

As expected, getting here had its challenges. Despite months of purging and trying to pare down what we were bringing, we still ended up with 10 suitcases, 4 backpacks, 2 ukuleles, 1 booster seat, and 1 purse. Hauling that much baggage is not easy. We required 2 rides to the airport (thank you Nana and Susan!) to fit all our stuff and us, and getting checked in took what felt like ages, but then we were temporarily free of that burden. The flight itself went smoothly and we touched down in Seattle a little before 10 pm PT.

Ready for departure, with all of our baggage

At baggage claim, we rented one of those luggage carts for the first time, and with 5 bags piled on there we were able to roll and carry the rest. It took a couple attempts to get us up the elevator to the sky bridge (the elevator door kept closing on poor Owen trying to push the laden cart) and then back down to the pickup area (Elizabeth was the one left on the other side of the over-eager elevator door that time). Then it was time to find a ride.

We had originally rented a van for our time here, but our amazing hosts also offered the use of a car (they're out of town this week). So, all we had to do was get from the airport to their house with all our baggage. We decided to try a Lyft XL, hoping it could haul all of us. A driver named Nikolai picked up our request quickly, but the picture of his car looked like a sedan, so I sent him a quick message to let him know all the luggage we had. He was undaunted, and showed up a few minutes later in his Tesla. We played luggage tetris for a while, but it was clearly not going to all fit, so he canceled our ride. I'm still not sure the rules of classifying yourself as "XL", but that seemed like a stretch.

We were assigned a new driver, Ahmed, who was a little more promising in a Toyota Highlander. While we waited for him to show up, we watched others get picked up in minivans and Suburbans and couldn't help but wonder if the people taking those really needed all the space. Of course, we were a bit embarassed to require so much space ourselves. That is not the way we like to travel, and I still have some lingering shame and disappointment we didn't pare down to less.

Even with the larger vehicle, there was no way we could get all the baggage and the 4 of us in the Highlander. So Elizabeth downloaded the app as well and put in a request for another ride (regular, not XL) and we soon loaded the remaining 4 bags into a Prius a few cars down the row. As we drove off in tandem, I couldn't help but think we would have been better off with the taxi dispatcher or someone we could talk to so we could have had found the best vehicle from the beginning. Apps and algorithms are supposed to provide the most efficient solutions, like assigning cars to riders at the airport, but they can only do so if they have complete information about the situation and are built with the same priorities as the users. There are still times when people are better at gathering that information and helping find solutions that fit each user.

Nevertheless, we arrived at our temporary home half an hour later, and I counted our bags on the sidewalk while Elizabeth located the spare key. Though it was well after 2 am in our bodies, the kids explored the house with excitement and even tried to play some games and pull out books to read. We unpacked just enough to brush teeth and put on jammies, then got them in bed right at midnight.

I am overwhelmed with gratitude this morning for our hosts, who are off on a spring break trip to DC and yet still managed to leave the house well situated to welcome us. It was such a relief to arrive at familiar surroundings with comfortable beds waiting, food and coffee for the morning, and toys and books for the kids.

I am so grateful that we didn't have a vomiting child on the plane, as the poor family across the aisle did last night when we were landing. The mom was standing in the aisle trying to hold the barf bag under his face to catch the vomit and the flight attendant made an announcement requesting everyone to please remain in their seats until we reached the gate.

I am so grateful our kids are such resilient and joyful travelers these days. In younger years, there would have been a lot of hungry and tired and bored tears shed, but these kids were genuinely excited about the adventure, patient with the food situation, entertained on their own, and thrilled to watch movies (Owen watched Batman and part of Happy Feet and Nora watched Encanto and part of Big Hero 6). They carried luggage and had few complaints despite our challenges along the way.

I am so grateful for our friends who helped enable this journey, who helped pack and purge and move boxes, loaned us a car after we sold both of ours, kept our kids while we were busy with preparations, helped us get to the airport, and generally enveloped us in love and community.

I am so grateful for my colleagues at work who have shown nothing but support for this adventure and sent me off with heartfelt farewells. Their warm appreciation for my contributions and work was unlooked for and uplifting.

I am so grateful to my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law and so many other family members who have not just tolerated that I am taking Elizabeth and the kids to the other side of the world, but have even shared in our excitement for this journey. There is no doubt moving away from these dear people is the hardest part of going.

I am so grateful to my wife who hasn't shied from this daunting adventure and is embracing the change and rolling with the challenges, even while we grieve what we are leaving behind. I am in awe of her strength.

And I am so grateful to be back in the Pacific Northwest, even though it is 39 degrees and drizzling. Whenever I fly into Seattle, my favorite part is looking out as we cross the Cascade Mountains, greeting Mt. Rainier and, if skies are clear, Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Adams, and even all the way down to Mt. Hood. These massive guardians stand at the gateway to the land that raised me, and something changes inside when they come into view. But descending in the dark last night, even without the mountains visible, I got that same feeling when I spied Lake Washington with it's floating bridges and we curved around its north end and down toward SeaTac. Something clicks into place when I am here, some hole that didn't know was there is filled. Driving around the hills and along the shores of Lake Union with its surface glittering with lights of the city above dark unknowable depths, waking up to a sunrise shrouded in gray clouds pierced by evergreens, I am stunned by how deeply familiar this place is. We are here to recconnect with the many people in the area we love, and also to reconnect with this place, this verdant land gouged by glaciers and resplendent with many waters that still holds me in its sway.

Though we are in limbo, between homes, for the next 2 weeks we are fortunate to call this place our temporary home.