I’ll know in just a few weeks. This is big, really big. My 26-year-old son, Sammy, is joining the Foreign Service and in October will get his first tour-of-duty assignment. He’s shown me the “bid list” of 73 cities where there are openings in the embassy or consulate: he had to rank them in order of preference and just turned that in yesterday. No guarantees he’ll be placed in one of his top or even medium preferences. First-tours are, thank God, not sent to war zones but there are definitely some places less than desirable on the list according to this anxious mom. (And some cities I’ve never even heard of, but that’s another story.)
This is an ultimate case of giving your children roots and wings. You have to live with where their wings take them and hope that the roots are strong enough that they will thrive and yes, miss you and stay in touch.
I want for him all good things—safety, interesting work, new friends from both the expatriate and local communities, a sense of self-worth, recognition for his achievements, a comfortable home sanctuary, a chance to see the world and realize the universality of human experience across borders, and much, much more.
I wish for myself good Skyping, maybe a good place to visit him (and that my frequent flyer miles will be enough), and most of all the ability to sleep at night.
More to come…