I have a school friend who emigrated to America. She married a local and now lives in Vermont with her husband and four children. I wrote about visiting her in 2007 when she had fewer children. She is the busiest person I know. She and her husband work full time as doctors. He’s a hospital doctor and she works in her own practice where she stops people having heart attacks; she calls it her “plumbing” – she pushes stuff through people’s veins as I understand it. They are all very sporty and play tennis, ski, swim and play baseball all the time. She’s the only person I know whose family always travels with six tennis racquets. They go on very exotic holidays – Singapore (where her parents are living, to be fair, but still it’s a long way from Vermont), Hawaii, South America, West Cork (ok that last is less exotic but still a long way from Vermont). We usually talk a couple of times a year and meet up in the summer when she comes back to Cork.
She didn’t call this Christmas which was a bit unusual but not unheard of. I got a call from her the other week. “Sorry I didn’t call at Christmas, we’ve been busy.” “Goodness, I know, haven’t we all?” I replied. “Yes,” she said, “we’ve decided to start fostering and we have a 13 year old foster child as part of our family now. Also, we got two puppies.”
She says it’s been great and I am filled with awe. It’s a short term placement but it looks like it might become longer term and my friend is delighted. “We are so lucky,” she said, “it’s great to be able to help someone else.” Those Vermonters are amazing.