Reflections on India, One Year Later, Tuesday

The first blog entry I ever wrote was posted on a family website on the first Tuesday of November 2008:

After 18 months of waiting and planning, we are 9 hours away
It's hard to believe, and still feels surreal. After 18 months of waiting and dreaming, we finally get on a plane and go to India in the morning. We will be picking Ovi up in about 48 hours! Obviously, since I'm posting at 1:00 am, I am too excited and wound up to sleep. I keep imagining what it will be like to meet her and get to know her. I've imagined that moment 1000 times, and soon it will be real.

Josh, Chris, and Laura--we love you and will miss you. Have fun and take care of each other! Check back soon to see some pictures.

As I think back on that Tuesday in November 2008, I remember very little about a day in which I did so much. I know I woke up around 6:00 am and didn’t go to sleep until around 2:00 am.

I must have taught an online chat at 1:00 in the afternoon, because that’s what I’ve done every Tuesday for more semesters than I can count.

I know I voted Democrat in a Republican state; and I remember that my polling location was screwed up, and I was mad because I didn’t have time to drive somewhere else, but did it anyway. I remember watching election news starting around 10:00 pm.

I’m certain that I must have checked and rechecked the carry-on devoted entirely to 10 lbs of paperwork. I’m also certain that I must have checked and rechecked the passports, the India hotel addresses and contact phone numbers.

Surely I read and reread the pages of notes for the other 3 kids’ schedules. Surely I called the three different people taking care of our kids and went over everything one last time. Surely I made sure the insurance card and medical treatment consent letter were in a place everyone could find should someone need to go to the doctor or hospital while we’re gone.

Likely I packed my own suitcase, a suitcase for Ovi, and suitcases for all 3 other kids on that day. I don’t remember doing that, but I know myself, and I know I never pack until the very last minute.

I know I took the time to have a nice family dinner and also to tuck each of the other 3 in and spend some time talking with them and hugging them.

I know I never sat down, never took a breath, never made it through the whole to-do list.

I really have very little sequential memory of that day, and yet the day is one of the most memorable of my life. It is images, feelings, essences I remember. I still feel the weight and the magnitude of that day. It was the pivot between so many endings and so many beginnings. I can feel it in my heart and on my shoulders today as acutely as I did a year ago. I had then and have still a sort of hyper awareness of something tangibly transcendent. Something I can hear and see and feel and even taste, but cannot give form to. Cannot give shape to. Cannot give voice to.
I was gravid with it. And I remember every detail.