I'm sure I've said this before on here somewhere, but this is one of the hardest parts of the expat life. We have to make peace with the fact that the work we've chosen to do, that we feel called to do, will take us far away from the ones we love the most.
When we first told our families where we'd be moving to, part of me was afraid they might take it as a personal affront - I mean, could we get any further away from them and still be on Earth?
I would love to be one of those families that lives close to parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, cousins. I would love to drop the kids off with the grandparents for a weekend, would love for their cousins to be at their birthday parties, would love to have weekly Sunday lunches - the kind I grew up with - together.
Our family has been so gracious. Each wedding, birth, funeral, birthday, family reunion or retirement party we miss - they are so gracious. They understand that we want to be there, but can't be. But it's still hard to be the only one not there.
Okay, enough of that. Here's a little tribute to Papaw.
He has a sense of humor.
He is one of the most patriotic people I know. He was in the Navy during World War II and patrolled the waters off of Borneo, not far from where we lived.
He is loyal to his family, and has a soft spot for grands and great-grands.
He calls me "baby" even though I'm over 40.
Happy 90th birthday, Papaw!