Part Two.

I'm working through why the term "escape" is often associated with the negative. The weak. The sinful, even. It's one of those words that, like so many, perhaps carries one connotation more heavily than another. But I am escaping now, to here, to slip away from the current chaos, exhaustion, monotony of moving in and this escape, from the goings on downstairs, feels like the healthiest thing I've done in awhile. Moving in and establishing a life, a pattern, a sense of self and functional movement in a new place...it is more overwhelming than I anticipated and I am more desperate for a sense of normalcy than ever before and yet, it is still a ways away. The Move, as I alluded to, has happened. It was everything I anticipated and some. Sweaty, weary, giddy, laughable, relieving, disconcerting...balancing my own emotion tripled with that of my husband and girls, well, it was a lot. I've never before defined exhaustion as poisoning, but it seems that this is the moment for that. I go to sleep and awake in pain. Slow muscular distress raking across my chest and shoulders and dreams. Even in my embracing of the manual labor side of things, I feel ill-equipped. And recognize the need for community. For help. And so we have some, but some isn't quite enough when you feel a bit unknown amidst it all. 

 

I teeter for keeping a stability at all, but this, this memory is a small strength for me. I'm so grateful for the flight I'm able to take here. The time it takes to remember well. The words I wrote so many months ago. And so here is more of Croatia, December 2013. Love it with me.

 



December 18th is turning out to be one of my longest in awhile. We are chasing the day from Germany to America so it's like I'll have lived almost two days for this date. Perhaps that is a good thing. There is much to process and not that it will all bleed on this page, but I certainly am flying with a contemplative flair. I'm grateful that, out of all the folks on this completely full flight, my (almost) too-close-for-comfort seat mate is an older Indian gentleman who seems to have as much interest in chitty-chatting as he would have in being packed away in the overhead bin. And so it is mostly quiet. And calm. I eavesdropped on a conversation in front of me of a university girl who is just returning from a flurry of a European tour. Naples, Florence, Rome, Paris, Frankfurt all. in. two. weeks. I don't know if this is admirable or not. I've been thinking about how Hannah has come to know Zagreb-not just in its' physicality and language, but its' heartbeat, rhythms, cadence, the weather, the people groups, the patterns, the farmers and their food, the transportation, the places to buy. eat. drink. And so she has lived there for three and a half years! And she (and Matija) got to share their IMMENSE wealth of knowledge with me. Through innumerable short and lengthy conversations, and the walking on street level, and the hearing about the places that have colored and filled in the picture of a life. Her life. And so her experience intensified the richness of my little nine days. What a difference I had in one place for that time than the girl in front of me...5 cities (all bigger than Zagreb) in only 14 days. Precious exuberance over my experience.

 

For my meal with Matija's parents, whom I had gotten to know during the wedding time, Juraj definitively chose a "from the sea" menu, which I loved. Shrimp and pasta, and roasted squid. Oh my. It was a delight. All garnished with the freshest olive oil and olives and olive oil...oh, wait, I already said that. It was cozy and restful to spend our Sunday afternoon tucked in the foggy hills outside of the city with fig schnapps and a crackling fire and such a carefully-laid feast before us. Quite a luxury. 

 

It was thoroughly meaningful to see Juraj and Gordona's house as well. One that they have built themselves and so carries with it much of their heart and soul. I was also able to meet their long-time neighbors and friends, Zladko and Maria.

 Even though I felt lavished upon by the simplest "being there" activities, Hannah and Matija gifted me with a ticket to the Nutcracker ballet at the Croatian National Theater. I did dance, once upon a time, which only helped in the immense appreciation of this classic performance, but the whole aura of the evening was breathtaking.

 

Even though Hannah's Croatian is phenomenal, she played the American tourist along with me for this posed photo in the foyer of the theater. What a sport :-)

 

Our evenings at home were relaxed and replete with good conversation, massage, wine, and films. And laughs...

Oh, happy ones!!

Our final evening in Zagreb was spent exploring the old city. Here is the view down from where we are about to take a hike! The steam is from mulled wine and warm food housed in the little Christmas-market-stalls. 

 

Red+Green=MerryMerry!

 

Great lines, and stone, and graffiti art. Flowing together for beauties' sake.

 

Red knit twins...overlooking the city...view stunted by the infamous Zagreb fog.

 

Just a taste, for the hour was late, but I look forward to a real visit to this museum next time!

How many others have wandered these centuries-old cobblestones? We did.

And then stopped at a patisserie/confection shop. Oh decadence. No guilt, just enjoyment of a treat. What a different mode of operating from the American system. There is such joy in the freedom of enjoyment.

 

We opted for dense hot chocolate, thoughtful conversation, and people watching. I can remember how the chair felt under my hand as I pulled it from the table to sit. And how the chocolate swept through my senses. And how my sister looked. Flush from cold, glowing from pregnancy, content in this place.

 

And then it snowed. A whimsical goodbye on my final morning there.

 

Goodbye street.

 

Goodbye dear ones.

I do have strange sorrow that I didn't get to meet this baby. This first son of my sister and her husband. How bizarre that span of emotions ran. At one point I was so fully hoping that he may have even been born before I arrived. And then as the days passed on I didn't know how it would all play out. At one point I realized it was fairly unlikely and was so very heart heavy, but most-wonderfully, Hannah and I had established, early in the week, a contentment. A contentment with whatever the outcome because, truly, there were specific gifts that came with each scenario we played out. And on the same line, I'm most sure I will weep for joy and maybe confusion when that little life does come and I can't be there to help and hold that wee one.

 

Oh full heart. Thank you for this healthiest escape.