Vashon Island, 1997.
Shauna, long black hair and passion to match, could hardly stand still. Jumping up and down and pacing back and forth, she said, “But, Mom, what do you think Daddy will say?” Shauna was the first of the girls to come home from school. Nearly 16, and bubbling over with excitement, Shauna was my compatriot in lobbying for a new adventure.
“OK. OK. Let’s be really calm when he comes in. Let’s let him tell us about his day, and we can smile and play it very cool. Let’s don’t scare him,” I warned.
“Ok, but what do you think he’ll say?”
We stood in our kitchen looking down over a sweeping grass meadow. Built for our three daughters, five dogs, many cats, and a bunny - Don and I designed this home together. Taking us many years to save enough money and find the right property, we built the house on 10 acres of pine and evergreens in a community we loved more than any we had ever known before. Don and I were the co-producers/directors of this beautiful home. We put all of our dreams in her with a pottery studio in the garage and a darkroom in the large laundry room. Reflecting our love of Japan, we designed half of the house with Japanese shoji and tatami looking out on a manicured Japanese garden. We designed every window, every bookshelf, every wooden cabinet, and every drawer pull. It was a piece of art.
Don and I had developed a law practice on this little island, with me as the attorney and Don as my legal assistant. And we had been able to build a big enough clientele to pay for our extravagant home and to care for our family. We worked out of our home.
But, this bucolic life was going morph into something very different.
Don walked in followed by Robert Redford, our long haired golden retriever who filled with doggy smiles and a wagging tail came to my side to get some attention. Don was full of stories of taking the ferry to the mainland, going to Costco, and eating free offerings of cheese and crackers. “And, then the lady handed me a cup filled with chocolate ice cream and told me, ‘this isn’t just any chocolate this is chocolate from Belgium! Can you taste the little bits of chocolate?’”
Shauna and I stood listening, leaning against the the long kitchen island where the family gathered for making food and sharing tales.
Don, not born into the family yesterday, looked up. He noticed our uncharacteristic silence - a silence seldom heard in our house filled with love, laughter, and energy. “Hey, what’s up with you two? What’s going on? Why are you so quiet?”
Shauna looked at me, and I looked at her. And then it all came spewing out. No self control here. No playing it cool. “Daddy, look what Mom got in the mail. Look! It’s from Volodymyr. It’s from Ukraine. Here read it!” She pushed the creased yellowed envelope across to her dad’s waiting hands.
Don took it and looked over at me. “Go ahead, Honey. Read it,” I said softly. He looked down at the yellowing paper - a typewritten message that he suspected was going to disrupt his peaceful island life.
And after what felt like many years, Don looked up to find two very expectant faces peering at him. Shauna said, “Well, Daddy, what do you think?”
Don, who was used to the passion that only his 4 women could give - his wife and three daughters - smiled and said, “Oh, Sh%#&*%t! We’re going to Ukraine, aren’t we?”