Reflecting on the routines needed when you can’t just hop in a car to see family, separated by an ocean in between.
I know this trip well. I have lost count on how many times I have done this, but enough to have a routine. To know how to get through German customs without too much stress. I know my way to the gate. I know where to fill my water bottle and where to get the best sandwich before the flight. When to put on my compression socks and when to get in line.
I recall specific flights that stand out more than others; the previous time flying back for our daughter’s wedding, the last time flying with our youngest to complete her university orientation, or the time when she and I lucked out with my husband’s business points and were able to sit in business class, side by side, watching movies and eating junk food the whole way across the ocean.
I loved our flights when there were 3 of us, our daughter by the window, me on the aisle, and my husband in the middle. A Daddy sandwich. Excitement was palpable between us, heading back to the U.S. either for the first time after moving or excited to spend time at our place in Door County.
All the others just blur together, enough to form my routine, my habits at the Frankfurt airport…trying to make this as pleasant an experience as possible. It is always a challenge when working through a language “speed bump” and cultural differences. A challenge to manage through any anxieties about flying or sore muscles, stiff necks and tired eyes coming from limited sleep.
Reflecting today as this could be my last flight back to the U.S. before we move back officially in the spring, after nearly 4 years of living abroad in Germany.
I can’t really wrap my mind around this yet as we have been living in such a state of unknowns, undetermined dates, uncertainty of locations. But we knew it was inevitable. This realization brings me right back to gratitude.
I know that this experience, living in Europe, is something that few are able to do. We really have been blessed with this opportunity. But it does come at a cost. Today, I am reflecting on the costs of an ocean in between us and our family. Grateful that I am able to do this, me and my routine, at the Frankfurt Flughafen.
Reflecting on the gradual transition to a new and inevitable season of life: empty nesting.
It is definitely quieter around here. Not that she made much noise during her last two years of high school—she often retreated into her “nest” (our nickname for the top floor of our house, where her bedroom is). Still, we knew she’d come down now and then for food or drinks, join us for walks with the dogs, and wander the house in search of her cats. But now? Yes, it’s definitely quieter.
Our youngest has been away at college in the U.S. for over a month now, while her dad and I are back here in Germany—with her cats and our one remaining dog. We are, officially, empty nesters. I can confirm: her nest is empty.
People often ask how things are going in this new stage. I usually say, “It’s quiet and different, but she’s where she’s supposed to be.” Over the past month, I’ve been reflecting on what it means to be an empty nester. It feels less like the dramatic shift of stepping off a plane into a new country, and more like the transition between seasons.
Eventually summer shifts somehow into autumn. You start noticing a few chilly, rainy days, but you’re still wearing your summer clothes—no need to pack them away just yet. Then one day, a tree catches your eye with its changing colors. You’re surprised—how are we heading into another season already? But as the colder days increase and more trees change, it starts to sink in: yes, autumn has arrived.
Raising teenagers is a lot like that. It’s normal for high schoolers to begin pulling away—this slow, natural distancing helps prepare them (and us) for adulthood. When our daughter turned 18, even she wasn’t so sure she was ready for this thing called “adulting.” But this gradual change also gives us, as parents, time to prepare for life without them under our roof every day.
We’ve had children in our home for nearly 25 years. That’s a long season. So what does this next one look like—for me? I don’t know yet. I know it likely involves moving back to the U.S sometime next year, but beyond that, the long-term picture feels a little foggy. That’s hard for someone like me, who loves to plan.
My husband and I do have some exciting plans together—we’ve been preparing for this new chapter for a while. But for me, personally, what are the things I can touch, see, and smell in this new season of life? That’s a good question—and one that will take time, reflection, and prayer to answer.
So, now that I fully realize I’m entering a new season, I’m trying to give myself grace. This transition might take time—a long time—and that’s okay. With each new season comes new opportunities, fresh joys, and unexpected beauty. Sometimes those joys are tucked under a fallen log or hiding in the branches of a tree.
After the holiday whirlwinds, it can be so easy to jump into a new year and not reflect on the blessings of the previous 365 days. Easy to jump into a new day and not be grateful for the gifts in each day. But in reflection and gratitude, peace and joy can be found.
The Christmas decorations are finally all tucked away in their resting places for another year. Our adult children who were all with us for the holidays in Germany are back in the US, back to their lives of work and study. My new calendar has been placed on the wall and already has new notes handwritten on it. It can be easy to turn the page on a new year, a new chapter, and not reflect on the precious experiences of the past 365 days.
For years, before willingly releasing my consciousness to a night of sleep, I would list in my head 3 things that I was grateful for in the day. I wish I was able to write these down every day, but jotting these in a journal nightly has just never worked for me. Listing them in my head helps me to focus on the present, focus on my blessings, whether large or small, and helps send me into slumber with positive thoughts.
This past year, one day I felt God challenging me…”Really? You can only think of 3 things before you go to bed that you are grateful for?” Surely, I could think of at least 10 things before I doze off for the day.
I accepted the challenge and now before I go to sleep, turning the page on another day, I think of 10 things that I am grateful for in the day. God’s blessings are everywhere, and I really do not have a problem thinking of at least 10 things. Even on my worst days, I can find 10 things. If I can think of 10 things, I know my day has been a “10”. This practice has helped me to accept the gift of the day I was given, to put focus and attention on the most special parts of the day, and to guide me into a new day tomorrow.
But tomorrow is never promised. There really is only today. Which brings me back to my reflection on 2024. 2025 is not promised to any of us. But if you are reading this, we all experienced precious 2024 and all its ups and downs. That is very much worthy of pause and reflection.
So, I reapplied my list of 10 things before I go to bed, to reflecting on the past year. How hard would it be to come up with a list? Would it be challenging to narrow it down? I was surprised that my list came to me so easily, in a matter of a minute as I turned back the calendar to the previous year. Each one of these focused on people, as people and relationships make up a strong pillar of my life. (For my family – these are in no particular order as each one is so special).
1 – We were able to spend Christmas and New Year’s with all of our children and their partners. With half of us living on another continent, this truly was a gift as it never had happened before here in Germany. Together, we played board games, laughed, ate, drank, and traveled, just spending time being with each other.
2 – I am so grateful to have been able to spend so much extended time with my family and friends in the US this year, just being with them. A hidden blessing of living so far away is that when you travel over the ocean, you want to stay a while.
3 – My amazing husband surprised me with weekend trips to Bergen, Norway and Naples, Italy as a way for us to see more of Europe and not use his precious vacation time from work. (May we also recommend Lufthansa Surprise Flights, which is how we got to Norway last minute for a cheap deal!). Half of me is Norwegian and setting foot in Norway for the first time was simply a moment I will never forget. Those are my people!
4 – Early in 2024, I had the amazing opportunity to help our future son-in-law propose to our daughter in front of a stunning castle on a golf course. Another moment I will never forget, and we even had sunny blue skies on that February gray day, just at the right moment.
5 – Later in the year, I had the honor of being there in person with our daughter when she shopped (and found) her wedding dress. Milestone moments for sure! Video technology helps us feel connected to others being so far away, but I am grateful that for this moment I was there in person.
6 -This fall, I traveled to Georgia to see where our son was working in an engineering Co-op. As an added bonus, one of my sisters was able to join in the fun. We also traveled to South Carolina to see our uncle (who is a priest) and his church parishes there. I called it “Operation Sun and Son”! A success.
7 – For our youngest, 2024 was a very challenging year. As someone who battles migraines and other medical conditions, dealing with the German medical system here has been extra challenging to say the least. I am so proud of all she has accomplished as a senior in high school, despite all of her medical challenges. But the greatest gift was that she was able to begin a new medicine after turning 18, that has been simply miraculous. I hate to even say how amazing it has been, to not jinx her. But I do give thanks every day for this medicine and for the people who created it. Simply life changing.
8 – Well we bought a house in 2024. That was huge! The house isn’t huge, but if you play Monopoly, you understand the importance of having properties all together. This house is directly behind our small cottage on the water in Wisconsin. We hired an architect and look forward to making this our retirement home someday.
Our future Wisconsin sunrise
9 – I turned 50 in 2024! A big milestone! For 10 years, I had told my friends that I wanted to celebrate my 50th somehow in Europe in a castle. I had no idea that actually would happen. From celebrating the day at a wine tasting in a castle on the 50th parallel here in Germany, to traveling to Ireland and Scotland with our friends from the US, to celebrating in the US at our new home later in the summer, 2024 was year of leaning in on experiences and savoring the moment. These experiences are ones that will grow huge memory dividends in the future — moments that truly last and are what life is about (check out the book “Die with Zero” by Bill Perkins to learn more about memory dividends). We are a huge fan!
10 – Last but not least, this was the year that I realized that I needed to do some planning for our empty nest and put myself out there, leveraging my skills in my current world. I went back to teaching Zumba Fitness. I started an English-speaking faith community. And I even became a demonstrator for Thermomix. (If you don’t know what Thermomix is, just wait until I get back to the US. You will know then).
The next time you lay your head to your pillow, I encourage you to reflect on your day and think of 10 things you are grateful for. It is ok to have repeats! This simple act can help you focus on the present and your many blessings, no matter how challenging the day.
As I have turned this page into the new year, I realize that this coming year is turning the page on so many new chapters. A wedding. A graduation. A possible return to the US. Chapters that are full of treasured characters, plot twists and turns, and a common thread through it all: “God, thank you”.
There was something so different inside of me as we were set to land in Norway. Never before have I been in a country, other than the US, where my ancestors have lived for generations and generations. How could it be that I felt like I was coming home?
I felt something different in my heart and gut as our plane approached the land underneath us. Land that contained snow-capped mountains, steep cliffs, and water inlets spreading across and everywhere in between. This was not going to be like any other prior time landing somewhere on vacation. The sun itself was making a grand debut topping off this wondrous experience of seeing Norway for the first time in my life.
Never did I imagine how awestruck I would be to finally set foot in a country where my great-great-great….grandparents lived. I love to tell people that the left half of me is Norwegian and the right half is Swedish. I am proud to be of 100% Scandinavian descent, which is a bit more rare in the melting pot of the US. It is crazy when I meet people from Sweden or Norway here in Germany and realize…wow, I even look like them. And then, actually being in Norway, I was not prepared to actually feel like I was coming a bit home.
Growing up, we were always reminded of our Scandinavian ancestry when we travelled to visit our grandparents. Because we lived closer to my mother’s parents, about a 5 hour drive away, we were more ‘exposed’ to Swedish customs, such as food and holiday traditions because her great grandparents were all born in Sweden. In fact, they all were born in Sweden in the same area, but their children all subsequently met and married in Minnesota (the immigrant population definitely settled together). My dad’s mother lived much further away, a good 12 hour drive, so visiting her and our family there was more rare, but just as treasured. There we could eat Grandma’s Lefse as Grandma Harriet was Norwegian. It was from her that we learned the precious exclamation, “Uff da”. Handy for many of life’s circumstances.
Lefse, a Norwegian soft flat bread made out of potatoes. Yum!
I remember a framed family tree on our hallway wall when I was young that listed my Swedish ancestors on my mother’s side. I was so intrigued by who those people were as I walked past that tree daily. What were they like? What did they look like? What do I have in me today that ties to them? And what about my dad’s side, from Norway?
When I was little, I begged my grandmother (who was of Swedish descent) to teach me Swedish. This was way before Duolingo, but as a retired school teacher, she was thrilled to pull out her children’s Swedish school books. She taught me to count to 10 and how to say the cow was black. But we were not able to be there for any period long enough for me to pick up the language from her. How wondrous would it be to travel back in time and learn things that we now find more important, to have more of a connection between those generations that have come before us.
Hidden Parts of Me
Photos of several of my great -grandparents from Minnesota
Glimpses of the past
So about 3 years ago, I felt the urge to dive more into my roots and dig into my ancestry. What would I learn? What could I find? I have always enjoyed the show “Finding Your Roots” on PBS, so I wanted to see what I could learn for myself. I found many unexpected things (I will leave that one for a future blog…or maybe book), but the more and more that I searched through the records to connect to my ancestors, the more excited and dedicated I felt to put the pieces of our ancestry puzzle together. I knew names off the top of my head, but in most cases, they were faceless. I have not seen photos of many of them, my relatives from my Norwegian side, but I could tell you when they were born, where they were born and who were their neighbors. In some cases, you can even see what their handwriting looked like by looking at Draft cards from the wars.
Bryggen, the old wharf of Bergen, consists of old wooden buildings that have been rebuilt numerous times with traditional methods (due to fires). Bergen was an important part of the Hanseatic League’s trading empire from the 14th to the mid 16th century and is a UNESCO World Heritage site.
But landing in Norway…that put real places in my line of sight. I could see the mountains, the fjords, the houses that looked so much like those in Minnesota and Wisconsin. I was stunned by how much things looked like the Midwest of the US (aside from the mountains and sea). We landed in Bergen, Norway, which is located about a 12 hour drive south of Trondheim, where my Norwegian ancestors came from. In Bergen, we went on a fjord tour where we saw first hand how isolated the houses and small villages were because of the fjords and mountains. According to National Geographic, the coastline of Norway, one of the longest in the world, would circle the world two and a half times if stretched out. There are few roads connecting these villages- thus the dependance on the sea. I can just imagine how even more isolated the communities must be 12 hours to the north. Those were my ancestors. Leaving their tight-knit community for something different, “America Fever”. Was it out of desire for something better? Desperation? Adventure?
None of us had any input in how we came to be in this world.
But it all made each of us, us.
All I know is a series of events over thousands and thousands of years (and the grace of God) resulted in my DNA being created with my arrival on this earth. I would imagine that in those generations and generations before me, there were many stories of joy and love and many of heartbreak and pain. I am happy to be though in this space. In this time. In this place. And I am happy to learn any connections with those generations to help me better understand me. I am who am I because of the people who came before me.
When everything in life changes, it is tempting to run away. However, I have learned the importance of jumping right in and facing the uncomfortable.
There is no escaping adversity. The only way out is through.
Nathan Andres, Author of “Your REAL Life: Get Authentic, Be Resilient & Make It Count!”
“It really takes a year to feel comfortable here?”, a fellow parent from our daughter’s international school shockingly asked me recently on a group hike through the forest. Many of the women on our hike were new to Germany, moving here from other countries, some as recent as two weeks ago. “I have ten more months to go? Yikes”, she replied.
I responded to her saying that it took me about a year to feel like ‘I got this’ – ‘I can do this…and I can enjoy it’. Like I know how to do things finally. I can go to the post office and do everything in my limited German and leave without needing to hold back tears. I know how to find our favorite foods at the grocery store without referring to Google Translate on my phone. I can navigate to (almost) anywhere in Europe on a train (and survive cancellations and delays…saving that for a future blog). I shared with her that it is different for everyone, but people go through different transitions when they live abroad, from the ‘honeymoon’ period to periods of sadness and frustration. I have been told by school counselors that it is normal. It’s expected. It will get better. When I returned to Germany after being in the US this summer, I was surprised to be happy to be ‘back home’. That is when I felt like I had turned a corner.
In June 2023, we passed our one year anniversary of living in Germany, which started my reflection on our move transition. Thank you Facebook for the reminders of all that was going on a year ago; the stress, the excitement, the confusion, the unknown. How could I forget? I have continued to reflect over these past few months on how did I get to this new, more stable emotional state. I can boil it down to three words:
Embrace the Uncomfortable.
Moving internationally is definitely not for everyone. One has to be ok with change, with having not just a new home to live in, but every aspect of one’s life changing. When everything in life is changing, it can be easy to want to just stay indoors. Isolate. Just get through. But, I did what I knew best to do: find a routine that is healthy both emotionally, physically, and spiritually, surround myself with people, and follow my passions, even if that is not an easy thing to do. I needed to be ok with the uncomfortable and to be vulnerable.
I knew that in order for me to be part of my new community, which is a core value of mine, I needed to speak the language. But learning German is not easy – especially at my age. I have dedicated daily time for the last year (and more) to learning German in some fashion, from Duolingo and other apps, to in-person classes to listening to German music and podcasts. Even after all this investment though, my speaking of German is where I am most vulnerable and uncomfortable. It is where I have had to put myself out there and be ok to not be correct. To not be understood. To fail at finding the right words. However, it is through our failures, where we learn and grow the most.
This summer, I was invited to be the singer for an 8 week Christian course that was hosted in a nearby community. This was only possible because of the relationships that I had built with local Germans, all while leaning in and continuing to sit and function in my discomfort of not being fluent in German, but putting myself out there anyway. These wonderful people new to me valued my gift of singing…over my gift of speaking Deutsch.
As the course began, it was there that I had met a new challenge in German: conversation during a German dinner. I never struggle with small talk in English; I am a marathoner in terms of small talk. However, each week at this course, we shared a meal together before the lecture and music. Having limited German and lots of stories that you want to share with others, that is a very humbling experience.
Each week, I would begin to panic as I sat down to eat at the table with others. Panic from the silence of a German dinner conversation as opposed to a loud, engaging conversation among Americans that was all in English. Panic because all I remembered was “Wo wohnst du?” (where do you live?). Panic because when people started speaking to me in German, I would freeze and not know how to respond. I learned how to be ok with sitting in silence, listening, and humbly sharing “Ich verstehe nicht” (I don’t understand).
But I kept coming back each week. I had made a commitment to learning songs in German and sharing music with them. I made an internal commitment to myself that I would learn only by being there, being part of the conversation, and listening to the lecture. Picking out the words that I did not know. Sharing any words that I did.
My American Chili that I made for the community potluck, our last gathering where I was the singer. I toned down the spice for my German friends and it was all gone in a matter of minutes.
Because I continued to lean in and be ok with discomfort, over the past months, I have been invited to further musical opportunities and groups to share my gift of singing with others. We don’t always understand each other, but music speaks one language. Through music, we all are one.
Mein Deutsch ist immer noch nicht so toll (my German is still not great), but I feel like I have survived the roughest waters in crossing this raging river. I can feel the calmer waters surrounding my feet and see dry land on the other side. I am surrounded by a community of people from so many countries, Germany and around the world, that I am confident that in this second year, I can not just ‘make it’ or ‘survive’, but I can thrive.
Embracing the uncomfortable: My photo was the winner of our town’s marketing contest and the photo that I took was put on the town beer coasters this year. I even was able to meet the mayor during the official presentation. I shared how thankful I was to be part of this new community…in German.
‘What is my Story?’, I thought as I reflected on our day learning about the Māori people, the first to arrive on the green and peaceful islands, that the world now calls New Zealand.
She had my attention the minute she opened her mouth to speak, with her eyebrows raised, joy radiating from her smile. She was here to share her family’s story. The story of her ancestors.
With our 12 day National Geographic G Adventure Tour, we explored and embraced New Zealand and her people through multiple cultural experiences earlier this year. Ena, our Māori guide on a beautiful summer day in February, drew me in with each word as she shared the Story that has been passed down generation after generation of her ancestors.
New Zealand was uninhabited by people until around 1000 years ago. There were just birds upon birds and a few species of bats. The first people arrived 300 or 400 years before the Great Migration from Hawaikii (around the 1600s) when Toi Kai ra Kau brought a group of 50 people out to sea, to explore and ultimately share information with their homeland. But he never came back, leaving these people to embrace their new life on the island, that they call Aotearoa.
As Ena passionately shared this story with us, she showed us the rock carvings that visually told their story. These carvings have been dated to 1050 AD and are not art, she says. They tell the story of her ancestors. Carvings of canoes. Long canoes. Their story of grief. Of life.
Fast forward hundreds of years. In the 1900’s, the Maori economy was booming as they had the largest planted forest in the southern hemisphere where pine trees grew twice as fast due to the volcanic soil. However in the 1960’s, the government wrongfully sold their land and trees to overseas control. Then in the 1980’s, mechanized forestry caused huge unemployment and their economy crashed, leaving them to face some pretty hard realities such as gangs, drugs, and high levels of suicide rates and abuse. Murupara was not the place you wanted to be.
“But that is changing. Change is always possible”.
-Ena
Ena stated these words with pride, as she toured us around her hometown.
We pulled up in our bus to the Kohutapu Lodge, where Nadine and her family welcomed us with smiles and open arms to their home. They had been preparing since early morning a traditional Māori lunch called a Hangi, where food is cooked for hours in the ground.
Our welcome as we sat down at our table
After lunch, Nadine invited us to gather around to hear more of their Story. We learned about Haka and soaked in the Māori Haka as Ena expressively shared that with us. Nadine and her husband gave up everything 9 years ago when they felt called to make a change in their community through tourism. Through the leftover Hangi meals, as buses upon buses came through to their lodge, they were able to feed over 30,000 meals to children in their community. But Covid brought them to their knees. How could they continue to make change in their community, with no tourists?
They needed to adapt. With government financial support, they developed programs to support local youth, which resulted in an 86% success rate. They now provide full academic scholarships to students, for their learning abroad and for students to come to them to learn about Māori people. Nadine shared with tears in her eyes that their family tourism experience won the top tourism award in New Zealand and the award for community engagement. Little by little, change was happening and we as tourists, played a part in making that change.
Our day with Ena came to a close when we went to go on a walk through the bush, their sacred forest. Before we walked in the forest, she said a beautiful Mihi (acknowledgement) in Māori, asking for permission for us to enter Her forest. We promised to not take or hurt anything. We were just there to look and then we would leave, leaving Her forest and inhabitants unharmed.
Walking through the forest was an experience like no other. The Forest, she inhaled and exhaled as we walked through. You could feel Her harmony. Her sacredness. To Her we gave Her our respect.
Ena, Nadine, and their family had shared with us their Story. Their collective Story. Their Story that has been told for over a thousand years.
One of our tour participants reflected how different this is compared to North American white culture. We do not know the stories of our ancestors from 1000 years ago. I barely know the stories of my grandparents. Such a loss in our culture.
Embracing Second Half Wonders 