After twelve years overseas (in Swaziland, Egypt, Honduras, and Gabon), it was a bittersweet farewell at the Ambassador’s residence; our last diplomatic dinner for a while.

I was grateful Ramsay was home from boarding school to hear the wonderful accolades his Dad received at dinner. And, after enduring a long year and a half apart, our family would resume a life together in Arlington, Virginia, our new post for the next two years.

On our PCS (Permanent Change of Station) trip from Gabon to the States, Brad, Ramsay, and I stopped briefly in the south of France, where Rams (now 13) was enthralled with the stylish sports cars. We savored ice cream cones on the Croisette, rode a Ferris Wheel, went tubing in the Bay of Cannes, visited the famous film festival red carpet at the Palais des Congrès, and lingered over flaky pastries in cafes. And, no longer on call after more than a decade of running security, Brad began to shed work stress.

After years of being outside of America on the Fourth of July, this year felt particularly patriotic. We visited Mama in Georgia, where blossoming magnolias were still in bloom and songbirds flit through her garden. We ate ripe peaches and watermelon, enjoyed cocktails on the front porch, played gin rummy, and lit fireworks in the driveway.

Our stateside summer flew by with a lot of fun. Hovering like a shadow in the background, however, were the logistical issues tied to our international move that needed to be resolved. They quietly pressed in on us like a ticking clock: rental property bidding wars, the search for an affordable used car, and navigating school registration without an address. In the midst of it all, I was applying to jobs, prepping for interviews, and received news that I’d been selected as a semi-finalist for an upcoming TEDx event. So, I walked in loops around the park in the evenings, practicing and memorizing my speech.

It felt like a lot was happening at once, but that’s how we operate: one step forward at a time, slotting the puzzle pieces together as we tear down and rebuild our life in a new country every few years. My friend, Shari, a military spouse who gets the lifestyle, cheered me on. “I love how it’s messy, Tracy, but you’re doing it all anyway!”

Slowly, plans fell into place. We signed a rental agreement for a property we’d only seen in a video, registered for school, and Brad turned on utilities in Virginia via phone from a Florida dealership while I negotiated for a car.

Before our road trip to DC, we booked four days in the U.S. Virgin Islands at a rustic beach hotel in St. Croix. (After living in places without clean beaches and clear water, we did not take those for granted).

Unplugging was a balm for our souls. We woke to light dancing across the sea, in which swam for hours, and the only sounds were the birds, the crackle of the coral reef, and lull of the waves.

As if in a dream, we snorkeled in shoals of anchovies, glinting silver and green, and floated through swirling schools of blue tang. One magical morning, Rams and I followed a graceful sea turtle gliding across the sea floor through shafts of light.

We savored coffee and wine (well, pineapple juice for Rams) on the beach while gazing at the horizon with our toes in the sand, and fell asleep with sun-kissed cheeks, spent and peaceful.

Upon arrival in Virginia, Brad and Ramsay picked up our rental keys while I pitched my TEDx talk, Building Stability Amidst Instability (made it to the finals in February 26)! Our air shipment with a few goods and clothes arrived. Our shipment from Africa has not yet arrived; however, as a workaround, we rented a U-Haul to pick up used furniture from Facebook Marketplace.

We reconnected with old friends in the area, and serendipity led us to foster an 8-month-old rescue puppy- a sweet, fluffy Golden Retriever and Pyrenees mix, whom we just adopted. It’s sooner than I was ready to expand our family, but we love Luna already.

Welcoming neighbors on our tree-lined street have shown up with homemade cookies, a broom, and a vacuum for us to borrow. Ramsay can walk to 8th grade from home, play basketball outside after dark, and bike to a nearby pizza place with new friends: rare freedoms for this third-culture kid raised in hardship countries without sidewalks and behind high walls with armed guards.

Reflecting on our time in West Africa, I do feel nostalgia for friends left behind in Gabon. I especially miss the dramatic storms and how the Kingfishers swooped and dove in the breezes preceding rains so heavy, they blurred the water’s horizon. And on brighter days, how a watercolor palette of peaches and reds at sunset bloomed across a wide expanse of sky.

As we shift into Autumn- our first change of seasons in ages- we feel content to have successfully navigated the maze of logistics it took to get us here. The view from our front porch is peaceful. We watch squirrels forage for acorns under cornflower skies and leaves flutter down to the sidewalk in shades of deeply-steeped tea, crimson and copper. We’re anticipating pumpkins, Fall Festivals, and trick-or-treating this Halloween. The cooler weather sweeping in calls for candles, warm drinks, cozy blankets, and a good book to delve into.

For now, we’re glamping inside our rental house until the cargo shipment of household effects arrives, but until then, we’re just grateful to be here, together. There’s more work to do to make it a home, but we’ve learned that the growing of roots, routines, and community takes patience and will happen organically.

When that guest bed finally arrives, we want visitors! In the meantime, cheers to a flourishing fall,
-Tracy