Motherhood and the University of Manchester
Standing in the Nashville midday sun, I watched as my three-year old filled a small, blue bucket with water from his wading pool and dumped it, again, into the grass off the porch. The week before I had learned that I’d been accepted into the University of Manchester, and as I sat there watching him play in the water, I wondered how I was going to take this tiny human away from everything that was familiar to him, and to me.
This was an emotional conundrum as much as it was a logistical one.
But, deep down, I felt sure that completing my Masters degree, in the United Kingdom, was something that would have a positive ripple effect over both our lives.
Baby Steps and One Long Flight
After packing up our home and all of his favorite stuffies, we boarded a long, eight-hour flight. When we landed in Manchester, rain and wind and a taxi driver calling me “Luv” welcomed us. The cars were on the wrong side of the road, the grocery shop didn’t have his favorite kind of yogurt, and my son kept asking where Grandpa was.
We had two weeks to get settled before class started and as we facetimed Grandpa back in the States, my worries only seemed to grow.
Daily life in Didsbury
Over the course of a month, we’d found a flat in Didsbury and began to explore. Very quickly, we found life here was very different to the life we’d lived in Tennessee. Yes, we had to walk to take a bus to get groceries, but that just meant we were no longer standing in the Nashville heat, which climbed well over 35 C at times, struggling to get buckled into a too hot car seat. Yes, the food here was different – eggplants and arugula were tricky to find at first – but finding locally grown produce at the fruit and veg stand made it a breeze to cook meals based on the season. And at every coffee shop or park or playground, we found new friends and families taking the time to welcome us and get to know us and give us tips on life in England, Manchester, and Didsbury.
In just a matter of weeks, as we wandered around Fletcher Moss Park, we realized that taking this giant leap to a new place, in a new country, was beginning to feel more like coming home.
Last Day of School; First Day of School
As I packed up my backpack for my last day of class and I hugged my son goodbye, I couldn’t help but realize how much he’d grown in the year I’d been studying. He was taller, his face a bit less chubby, and his words a bit easier to understand. Looking into his eyes, all I could see was everything that I had missed.
And then, a few weeks later, as I submitted my dissertation, I realized what we’d both gained. Not only had he lived and breathed a whole new culture, not only had we made forever friends and bought into a community that welcomed us with open arms, but together, we’d balanced life abroad, while at the same time, I set a life-long example of how deeply important it is to keep growing and keep learning.
And now, as he gets ready for his own first day of school, I finally understand how truly important this season of our life has been. I can easily see how formative my own pursuit of education was, as he straps on his backpack and proudly tells me that now it’s his turn – his to give the goodbye kiss, his turn to go wear a backpack, his turn to go to school.
- Jessica
