International Living Postcards– Sunday Edition
Sunday, Feb. 4, 2007
Paris, France
"Do you worry that your kids don’t have much experience of the States or of other Americans?" asked a colleague the other day.
Worry? Not exactly…but, lately, I do wonder.
In the States to visit my family over the holidays, Lief and I took Jack, 7, to D.C. for the weekend. We walked him past the Capitol, the White House, the Washington Monument…up and down the Mall…in and out of museums…all the while filling his little head with factoids of U.S. history and Americana. To any good effect? Who knows…
Jack will never be "American." Born in Ireland, he’s been a dual citizen from birth. Now attending school in Paris, he can bend your ear as readily in French as in English. He’s spent enough time in Panama, Nicaragua, and Argentina to miss friends in those places when we’re somewhere else. His experience of the U.S. has been limited to trips to visit his grandmother and cousins in Baltimore.
Where’s home for Jack? No question in his mind…that’s Waterford, Ireland.
Kaitlin, now 17, is another story. We transplanted ourselves with her from Baltimore to Ireland when Kaitlin was 9. She resented the move, resented us for making her make it, and cried herself to sleep every night the first year in her new "home." When she left Waterford for Paris 2 ½ years ago, she disliked Ireland less than she had at age 9…but only slightly so.
Paris, on the other hand, with its museums, cafés, festivals, opera, boutiques, shopping…ah, Paris has been a dream come true for Kaitlin, who is applying now to start university at either FIT or LIM in New York next year. Her time in the City of Light has fueled her interests in fashion and marketing.
Where’s home for Kaitlin? Don’t ask…it’s a sore subject. She’s not American…didn’t put down roots in Ireland…and came to Paris too late to be able to adopt it as a home the way a child could.
Even I sometimes lately feel rootless. The two weeks we spent in Baltimore over Christmas was our longest visit Stateside in eight years. Picking up our rental car, the girl behind the counter handed us maps and guides to restaurants and hotels in the area…assuming us tourists. We didn’t object.
We’re considering another move. This summer we may relocate again, perhaps to Panama…perhaps to Buenos Aires. Kaitlin will be going off to college. Jack’s always a ready traveler. A residence on that side of the Pond would mean many fewer trans-Atlantic flights for Lief and me.
As we think through the options and the logistics, I can’t help but wonder about the effects on the kids…on the family.
And I remind them (and myself) that home is where we’re all together. When the four of us sit down at once around the dinner table, be we in Paris, Waterford, Baltimore, or beyond…that’s home.
Their own families (and maybe their analysts) will chuckle someday over their tales of youthful wanderings and their mother’s worries over our rootless ways.
Regardless, I wouldn’t undo any of it. Occasionally, we consider returning to the U.S., where Jack could have a "normal childhood" (as Kaitlin used to demand those first years in Ireland). But there’s still so much world to discover…
Kathleen Peddicord
Publisher, International Living
[Don't miss out. Get your free IL Postcards subscription today.]
