Oh Give Me A Home.....

Idaho: mountains, trees, cowboy boots, and big breakfasts.  This was everything I wanted my UK family to experience while there, and for the most part they did.  Sudheer and I had a wonderful time at our reception, we were able to see loads of family and friends and our two families finally got to meet! On the Sunday my family hosted a bbq in my childhood park and we at elk, moose and deer until we were about to burst, then we topped off with apple crumble, peach cobbler, and black forest cake (s'mores were also available). All in all it was a great experience but time passed to quickly and the goodbyes were teary.  We didn't actually say goodbye to anyone, instead we left everyone with a see you later and an invitation to visit us in London.  It is my hope that they do visit.  

The Final Count Down....

In less than a week my husband (still seems strange using that word) and I will be packing our bags and flying together for the first time since a family holiday to Italy in 2015.  This trip takes us back to Idaho for three main things:
1. get my stuff shipped over here
2. Have a second reception so we can celebrate our wedding with the rest of the family that didn't come to the wedding (only 3 family members were able to make it, my mum and two cousins) and
3. Show my new family what Idaho is all about.
Its going to be a busy 7 days!!! Friends to catch up with, people to introduce my husband to, finalise everything for the move and the reception.  I have my suspicions I'm going to come back and need a holiday from my holiday! I should also mention that this weekend we are also going away to Bath for a pre-birthday get away. My birthday is at the end of the month.  
So long story short I'm taking a bunch of Londoners to little Pocatello Idaho and hoping for the best. Fresh air, wide open spaces, mountains, trees, and driving on the right side of the road oh the things that make Idaho great!  And while I am looking forward to heading back to my old stomping grounds I am slightly leery of what my two families will think of each other.  Its like Cal-Ranch meets Harrods.  Its going to be interesting, both sides will probably find the other side strange but with any luck they will blend into one happy family. If not at least its only for a weekend of reception and bbq's and with food involved I think I can manage to keep both sides happy.

Self Reliance, Family, and Missing Pieces

If your like me you've been self reliant for a loooooong time!  I've also always been the one who makes sure everyone else is ok. Growing up I took care of my great grandmother (Nana) what started out as me spending the weekend with Nana when I was 7 turned to spending the week with her and weekends with my Mum until by the time I was 10 I was living with Nana full time and my Mum would visit us once a month or so.  I became the one my Nana relied on to buy groceries, run errands, and help with the upkeep of the house. I suppose you  could say I grew up quickly. By the time I was 11 weekends changed from sleepovers with friends to staying close to home in case she needed me. I didn't mind though. Truth be told I relied on her as much as she relied on me.  Nana always knew how to mend the physical and emotional hurt, she was the one I turned to the day my best friend committed suicide.

Spending time with my great grandmother was amazing. My love of Japanese culture came from her.  She had a curio cabinet (which I inherited) full of little Japanese treasures. I remember as a child her allowing me to open the cabinet and play with those wonderful treasures.  I was always so careful to make sure I didn't drop, break, or otherwise inflict harm to those trinkets which she held so dear. My play mostly comprised of having the Japanese figurines walk over the ceramic bridge.

It was also from my Nana that I gained a love of England.  I remember on a family holiday to Washington we went to the ocean and my Nana telling me that if I looked really hard I could see the shores of England.  I didn't have the heart to tell her we were standing on the wrong coast and even if we were on the correct coast it was too far away. But I stood with her and looked out over the water imagining I could see the British coast and the land of our ancestors.  Nana was named Esperance after the ship that brought her parents over from the motherland.  She always wanted to go the England, but never had the chance. With her passing (I was 14) I made it my goal to one day visit England for her.  I made my first trip here in 2007 in her honour.  I still remember stepping off the plane at Heathrow Airport and whispering "I did it Nana, I'm in England", tears rolling down my cheeks I made my way to immigration.

Living here in London I have to wonder what Nana would think of England. The hustle and bustle of the city, crowds of people rushing to and from work, even bigger crowds of tourists taking in the sights.  I imagine if she were alive today she would want to see Buckingham Palace and Tower Bridge.  She wouldn't want to the take Underground, she'd prefer a black cab. We would have tea with scones and clotted cream and she would tell me the stories her parents told her of England. We'd window shop at Selfridges and try on hats in a fancy hat shop. We'd travel outside of London and see Windsor Castle, Stonehenge, and go to the seaside where we would site and have proper fish and chips.

Life isn't the same without her around and even though she has been gone for 25 years I still miss her everyday, but I hope she looks in on me from time to time and is proud of the person I have become.

I See the Sea!

The sea is a magical place.  The salt in the air, seagulls flying overhead, the sound of the crashing waves.  If I close my eyes I can almost smell that salty sea air and feel the mist on my face. 

Earlier in the week my husband surprised me with an afternoon trip to Brighton. We got the train and in less than an hour we were there.  We had lunch at Wahaca a lovely Mexican restaurant and then made our way down towards the pier. Walking down the hill, I couldn't help but suddenly turn to my husband and say "I see the sea!!!" excitedly. He laughed and told me that as a child it was always a game to see who saw the sea first when they all traveled together to the coast.  

I was so excited to finally be at the seaside again, my last venture to a British beach had been in 2010 to the sandy shores of Margate.  

Brighton is a different kind of beach, its rocky and the day we were there extremely windy.  I had worn a dress, something I had thought would be fine as I was told to dress summery.  After the first 3 near Marilyn Monroe moments I quickly rummaged around in my handbag and pulled out a 10p coin and an elastic; quickly MacGyvering my dress into a onesie. It wasn't pretty but it did the trick and I was no longer constantly worrying about showing the world the colour of my knickers.  

Clothing crisis adverted I was free to enjoy the beauty of the sea. We walked along the pier taking in the sites and then decided to have a walk down to the rocky beach.

I will always believe that the ocean has healing properties, it speaks to me.  I genuinely feel that I need periodic trips to the seaside so that I can put my feet in that cold salt water and let the ebb and flow of the water draw out all the negativity, fears, and doubts that are clouding my mind.  Standing in the tide I let the water pour over my toes rising up to my knees and absorb its strength while letting its calming caress soothe my soul.

After I sat on the rocky beach letting my legs dry and watching the waves crash onto the shore.  Side by side my husband and I sat in silence taking in the beauty of the ocean, a bright blue sky overhead, wind whipping the sea into a frenzy of waves.  It was a perfect afternoon. We sat there until it was time to catch the train home. Stopping at the pier we got a bag of churros to share and sat on a step to eat and talk.  It could not have been a more perfect day.  I hope we visit the seaside again soon.  Next time I'll wear something more beach appropriate and we've already agreed we'll have chips on the beach.

Deja Vu?!?

In three days I will have been married five months! Wow where did the time go? Still riding high on the coat tails of wedding bliss, in a month and one day we will be leaving our home in Addiscombe (suburb of Croydon - borough of London) for the mountains, trees and wide open spaces of Idaho for our wedding reception vol.2.
Hold up! Wait just a minute! Wedding Reception?!?
You might staring at your screen thinking to yourself "but you were married five months ago didn't you have a reception then? Or are you just greedy and want to be the centre attention all over again?!?" For those of you who know my husband and I you know that neither of us enjoy being the centre of attention. I am the epitome of a wallflower. I find a corner and blend into it like a ninja, its my skill.  Obviously on our wedding day we were all smiles and so busy with ceremonies, pictures, etc I didn't even have a chance to find a corner to blend into. Though truth be told wearing a big white dress makes it difficult to blend haha!  So back to the wedding reception part 2.  On our blessed day I had five people from Idaho with me my mum, cousins Kaitie and Talon, best friend Annette, and Poky mum Lynn. The rest of my family (there are a lot of them) didn't have passports or funding to attend.  So we are packing up and having a celebration with all the family and friends I left back home in Idaho.
And while it seems like all fun and games, with a second celebration comes all the wedding stresses I left behind five months ago. Budgets, organising food, accommodation for people not local and the idea that I'm bringing a family from London (used to the London lifestyle (Grandparent, In-laws, Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins) to the rural life of Idaho where big shopping means a trip to the local Wal-mart.  I know everyone is excited that the prospect of seeing mountains, a trip to Yellowstone and of course the celebration of Sudheer and I tying the knot, but I have to wonder is everyone going to be bored with the Idaho way of life?  Anyone who has been to the UK especially London knows that life here is just different, its fast paced and you pretty much have the world at your finger tips.  I still haven't fully adjusted and I've lived here for six months.
To top it off I am also finally organising the shipping of all my belongings from Idaho to the UK. EIN numbers, insurance, packing lists, oh the endless fun.
All I can is, I hope the reception will go well and everyone will get along. Hopefully my dress will fit and I can figure out how to do my makeup by myself. The food won't be what the UK family is used to (we had a full meal including drinks and hors d'oeuvres, but those from Idaho will know what to expect (cake, punch, and nibbles) but hopefully everyone just enjoys being together.

The Humble Potato

I'm from Idaho so I know a thing or two about potatoes. My grandfather was a foreman of a farm for decades, where they grew potatoes.  I joke with my new family here in the UK that potatoes run through my veins and I need at least a weekly intake so I don't die! (A bit melodramatic I know.)
Growing up, potatoes were served at least once a day in our household.  Mostly because my mother and aunt who worked at a potato warehouse received a free 10 lbs bag of potatoes each payday.  So we had 20 lbs of potatoes to use every 2 weeks.  Thanks to my mothers ingenuity and the constant supply of potatoes even in the tough times we didn't go hungry.  Maybe got a bit bored with the diet of potatoes and bologna but there was always at least one meal on the table each day.  Bless my mother and her amazing ability to turn the potato into a million different things. Sure we had the usual: baked, fried, and mashed.  But when the pantry allowed she unleashed her creativity and we had things like colcannon, potato soup (Nana's secret recipe), potato au gratin, scalloped potatoes, potato bread, gnocchi, potato hash, potato pancakes made from leftover baked potatoes, and more. My mother's potato repertoire was endless.  She kept us alive on potatoes, and even though I've probably eaten my weight in potatoes at least 100 times over I still love them.
It wasn't just my household that revolved around potatoes, my grandparents were very much meat and potatoes people.  Of course being a foreman of a potato farm leads

to a lot of free potatoes so my grandmother put all those potatoes to good use. I remember many a meal at my gram's house consisting of meat, fried potatoes, and a side of veg and I loved it every time.  When I stayed with my great grandmother to keep her company and look after her the potato diet continued, my favourite of hers being hash browns and potato soup.  She made the most wonderful hash browns. Golden and crispy on the outside and soft and fluffy inside. Never clumpy or greasy, just potato perfection.  My Nana's potato soup will forever be my absolute favourite of all time and nothing compares to it. It is also a guarded secret family recipe.  I remember when Nana and I would do our monthly shopping trip to the local Kmart we would almost always stop into the cafe for lunch and I would always have the same thing, mashed potatoes and gravy.  So you can see that my love of the potato is deeply rooted.
Lucky for me I moved to another country where the potato also plays a big role.  Enter the British potato, lovely baked ((known as a jacket potato here) with filling such as baked beans and cheese, coronation chicken,  tikka masala, and on it goes), roasted potatoes so crispy on the outside and deliciously soft and fluffy inside served with Sunday roast, the occasional mashed, but on the top of the list is the chip.  Oh the chip shop chip! The fact that there is something even called a chip shop (aka chippy) should tell you something. British chips are; well; they are amazing!!! If your American, take everything you think you know about the chip (known there as a french fry) and toss it out the window.  I'm not talking about McDonald's, Wendy's, or any of those fast food versions that sell over processed, mashed potatoes formed to look like a stick, I'm talking about real potatoes cut fresh and fried.  Back home there are only two places that I know of that have a fighting chance against the British chip; Five Guys and Tastee Treat. Both delicious, but there is just something about the British chip.  Not overly greasy, perfectly crispy on the outside, fluffy inside, scooped onto a piece of paper sprinkled with salt and wrapped tightly.  You can also get them in a paper cone of chips with a wooden fork and eat them then and there.  One of my favourite treats is fish and chips from our local chippy. Due to allergies I get my fish grilled rather than deep fried but come on lets face it, the meal is mostly about the chips.
I've been craving chips for nearly a week now and I'm fairly certain I'm going to cave soon (especially after writing this post). Luckily I had potatoes last night in the form of gobi aloo so I have some potatoes coursing though my veins and I'm not at risk from potato withdrawals for the next 48 to 72 hours.

My Super Power

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Green Lantern,  Spiderman, Captain America, do you see where I'm going with this? If not, did you even read the title? Its about super powers!
Everyone wishes they had a superpower right? I know I did, I wanted to be able to fly, read minds, or walk through walls.  I even remember as a child having dreams that I could fly. Granted it was after playing too much Super Mario Bros III and I had a raccoon tail in my dreams but it was still flying.
As an adult the wish for a super power slowly faded and I had more realistic dreams, a great job that pays well, buying a house, getting married. The list goes on.
In the past few months though a super power has finally started to emerge.  I don't remember being bitten by a radio active spider or swimming in some purple ooze but who knows I did sleep walk as a child.  My power is the ability to make people disappear! Ok its not as fantastic as you might think, its actually just making people leave the room.  I'm not even sure how I do it.  Is it body odor? I shower everyday and always remember to use antiperspirant and wear clean clothes.  Do I suck all the fun from a room and people have to escape?
In reality it is likely coincidence and people leave to go upstairs because they already had the idea to do so before I walked into the room.  But while I make my transition into British life I can't help but be over sensitive to the smallest of things. I know it will pass and if not then at least I finally have a superpower.

Love, Marriage, and the 1950s

When I announced to my family I was engaged, I got more congratulations and "we're so proud of you" than I ever received in my life.  Even more than when I graduated with an MA from a British University, or became Assistant Director of a museum.  I'm not saying no one cared about those accomplishments because they did, it just seems as if my engagement brought more happiness than previous accomplishments.  So was getting engaged an accomplishment? I guess at my age and in my particular culture (living behind the Mormon curtain) it was a big accomplishment.  At 37 I was well past my prime of marriage and I'm fairly certain that the majority of my family figured I would spend the rest of my life with a roommate and a house full of cats.  I'm not going to lie I had begun to have doubts myself.  I remember at my brothers wedding standing in the receiving line and every person that came though asked me if I was next. I was in my 20s at the time so there was still hope.  As time marched on the question became less and less frequent, people had given up on the idea that I would ever get married. 

There was a distinct pattern in my hometown of St. Anthony: graduate high school, go to the local college - Ricks College (now Brigham Young University Idaho), date a return missionary, get married, happily ever after.  Maybe my first mistake was not going to Ricks College, I went to Lewis in Clark State College in Northern Idaho where I quickly found out that the profession I should always do was not the one I wanted (elementary school teacher).  I returned a year later and a year after that moved to Pocatello I attend Idaho State University.  I graduation with a BA in Anthropology, my mum, grandparents, uncle Chris, and Aunt Barbara were there to celebrate with me. It was a proud moment for me, one of my proudest, I was the first other than an aunt to have attended and graduate college. By this time I was 21 and still unmarried (gasp!) but maybe there was still hope?

I should mention that the male population of my previous home (Pocatello) had taken no interest in me. Females aren't supposed to make the first move where I'm from, you wait for the guy to ask you out.  You date for a short period (usually a year or less) and then your married and producing offspring. Through my 20s I worked hard, had adventures and enjoyed life, but still no men ever took interest in me.  I was the overweight female friend that guys talked to in order to get to know my skinny attractive friends.  I saw friend after friend date and marry. 

I entered my 30s and submitted to the idea that I would be single forever, so I decided I should focus on a career 100%.  I applied for a MA program at the University of Kent and set off to find myself and further my career.  Imagine my surprise when not even a month into my program and a guy was interested in me. Me! The fat friend! He didn't talk to me to get to my skinny beautiful friends he wanted to get to know me! I was awkward and still unsure that it was real and ended up pushing him away (if you ask him, he will tell you the story of his rejection!) What he didn't understand was that guys never took interest in me for me. I had been taken aback and didn't know how to respond. Besides I had moved to the UK so that I could get a degree, I hadn't planned on falling in love.

But I constantly thought about him, what might have been, and the sadness I felt that I had "rejected" him.  Its not that we didn't see each other because we did, we had the same circle of friends after all and lived in the same University complex. We became friends and spoke now and again, but I always regretted it hadn't become anything more.  University ended and my roommate and I moved to a little house in Wincheap. I got a job at the Cathedral and she got a night job at Sainsburys.  Life went on.  Imagine my surprise when I walked into a friends house and found that same man sitting there on the sofa.  I couldn't stop smiling and we spent the evening talking, laughing, and dancing.  He offered if I ever wanted to get out of Canterbury that I could come to Croydon and spend the day with him.  I decided this time to ignore the fear and take him up on his offer.  A week later I was on a train to Croydon and he met me at the station.  It was an awkward greeting neither of us knowing wether to hug, kiss on the cheek, or shake hands.  It ended up as a half hug/kiss on the cheek.  We had lunch in the pub, and went to the cinema. After we went back to the pub for a drink and he walked me back to the train station. As we walked back to the station he took his hand in mine and the butterflies in my stomach kicked up again and I smiled, he was a hand holder.  Long story short, we fell in love and on 13 March 2017 we were married.

Five and a bit months into marriage and I'm wondering what is a good wife?  

In 1956 a good wife did the following:

Like I said when I announced my engagement my world told me that becoming a wife was the most important thing I had ever done.  So now my quest is: What is a good wife? Should I be doing my husbands laundry for him? Making dinner every night? This part is a bit complicated as we currently live with his parents and older brother and his wife.

It’s a conundrum for sure.

Who should I be looking up to? Who are the modern wives we should model our lives after? Melania Trump? Kim Kardashian? Hillary Clinton? Lord I hope not!  

Marriage is a partnership right? Its full of ups, down, and a lot of confusion.  I've only been married for 5 months and I'm still grappling with the question of how to a wife. 

Here’s what I came up with:

Make where you live a place you want to be.  Do it because it makes the both of you happy and you want to spend time in your home together. For us, its not the whole house but a bedroom. It is our sanctuary where we relax, where we organize our lives. We curl up together to watch a film or spend our time doing that tedious life admin stuff.  

Don't try and control everything.  Let your husband be the one to plan things.  I love it when Sudheer decides we are going to go on an adventure for the day and won't tell me where we are going. He pretends he want to top up my oyster card for the following week and then leads me down the ramp and onto a waiting train.  While it makes me a tiny bit anxious the sheer joy and anticipation of adventuring with my love surpasses the anxiety. 

Modal Trigger

Leave the nagging to someone else.  His boss nags him at work, parents nagged him when he was a kid.  I'm a bit of a control freak, I like the room clean, things put away and order rather than chaos.  So yes I get a bit freaked out when clothes aren't in the hamper or there are a pile of papers on the desk. But I am trying to let it go and not nag.

Make him feel needed. We all want to feel needed, I know I can take care of myself I've done it for decades, but one of the great things about being married is I don't have to do it on my own anymore. I'm part of a team.  This is one of the hardest things for me to overcome. I have looked after myself and others for so long I don't know how to let someone look after me, but I'm trying.

Marriage comes first.  Yes by all means have a career and friends that you see you need that, but marriage is important too. Make time to enjoy time with each other. Go away on a romantic weekend here and there. Just because you said I do doesn't mean the romance has to die.  Make an effort to put your marriage first.  

Say I love you and thank you often.  I have the most amazing husband, he is supportive and kind.  I try to tell him I love you every chance I get and when he goes out of his way to get me something I have been eyeing I always say thank you. I don't say it because I feel I have to. I tell him thank you because I want him to genuinely know that I appreciate everything he does for me. 

I'm not the 1950s wife. I don't wear and apron, I don't stand by the door with a drink in hand waiting for him to get home, I don't iron his clothes for work and I don't offer to take off his shoes for him.

I'm still finding myself as a wife just as he's finding himself as a husband, but we're doing it together.  In this day and age, getting married isn't the accomplishment, staying happy and married is.  I know we will have our arguments, and disagreements. There will be times when things aren't perfect and lovely but it said in the vows in good times and in bad. We will weather any storm that life brings our way.  It took almost 40 years to find my soul mate, I don't plan on letting him go anytime soon.

To My Younger Self

If I had a time machine and could go back to any point in my life for a "do over" when would that be? A couple of pinnacle points definitely come to mind.  High school comes to mind, I was such an awkward teen, but then again weren't we all? I would of course want the mind I have now, and I would try to participate in more things, instead of being that invisible wall flower that the world passed by. I'd have studied harder, tried out for more plays, solos in the choir, maybe even sports. I'd have actually listened to my teachers when they tried to give life advice instead of rolling my eyes and wondering if I could ever be as "old" as they seemed.
I would go back to the day my grandfather passed away and booked a flight home to be with family instead of having to deal with it on my own. (It was a complicated time).
I would go back to the moment before I pushed my brother down the stairs dislocating his shoulder and tell myself not to do it.
So many little things in life I would change, but then I wonder how would it affect the present me?
In reality I wouldn't go back to change anything specifically after all, each moment of my life has shaped the present me. What I would do however is go back and talk to my 25 year old self.  At 25 I still didn't know what I wanted to do with my life (I had ideas, I just didn't know how to get there), didn't think I would ever get married (thanks for that mormon culture), and was barely scraping by in life.
I don't think the 25 year old me would even recognise the now almost 40 (GASP!) year old me.  This is what I would say.....
Don't settle, your better than you think you are, and stop listening to that voice inside your head telling you that you can't do things. You can! One day you will go to England and get a masters degree, you will make friends who become sisters from all over the world.  One day you will be married and living in London, one day your career will take off.  Yes there are going to be bumps along the way and heartache that you must endure, but these things will make you stronger.  Take time now and spend it with family, especially your grandparents one day they will be gone and you will miss them. Don't worry so much about taking care of everyone else, its ok to sometimes be a little selfish and want something for yourself.  Get healthy now! Don't make me do it when I'm almost 40.  Eat more veg and less pizza and for the love of all that is holy stop eating so many gummy bears! Enjoy life, laugh when you can, cry when your sad, be happy.  Life has a lot to offer but only if you reach out and grab it, don't let it pass you by.

Transitions...

So I've spent the last 6 months kissing my husband goodbye as he goes off to work and go, well... no where really. Ok thats not entirely true, the first six weeks was all about wedding planning and I spent most of the time in the car with my new mother in law going to Southall for wedding related things. There were drives to the venue, meetings with the caterers, and all the little bit and bobs that wedding planning entails.  After the wedding was our 3 days mini moon in Bath, which was lovely! After that, Sudheer went back to work and I had to figure out what do to with myself. I spent a lot of the time going out on day trips to London visiting various museums. British Museum, V&A, Natural History Museum, etc.  I also spent time working on my video editing skills, watching tutorials and practicing. I also did a lot of reading and anxiously waiting for my husband to come home.  Then came the visa application, that took up time as my father in law and I worked on the seemingly endless application.  The day of the interview finally arrived and it was success! Britain is letting me stay until December 2019.  The day of the interview we had a celebration with a British lunch consisting of scotch eggs, quiche, victoria sponge and everything else my brother in law could find in the gluten free section of M&S that was British. It was a lovely surprise and an afternoon I will forever cherish.  He also sent me upstairs to my room to "find" his phone he had left upstairs.  What I found instead was loads of red and blue balloons, a mug, umbrella, and a wonderful card welcoming me into the family and as a resident of Britain. Needless to say I cried, I just found it so touching that they would go to so much trouble for me.
After a lovely lunch, I went straight upstairs to begin my search for a job.  55 applications and about 30 days later and I finally got an interview.  Part time maternity cover for a collections position at the Horniman.  I was a nervous wreck the morning of the interview and the travel didn't go nearly as smooth as hoped or planned.  The train was delayed, and google lied the night before and instead of only a 10 minute walk it was a 20 minute walk to the office.  Lucky for me my super planner husband had timed for me to get there extra early, which worked in the end to be right on time.  With blisters on my toes and heels and butterflies in my tummy I got through the interview and made my way back to Croydon via WHSmith for plasters.  I felt the interview had gone well enough but didn't really have any hopes of actually getting the job.
Imagine my surprise when I got a call just over a week ago offering me the position! Me? They wanted me? And while I am excited to finally be working and earning my keep, I have to wonder will I be good enough? I've been out of the work force for 6 months now, how will I transition back in? What is the commute going to be like? I've never had to commute further than a few miles for a job before. This is going to be clear across London! I have to take the train and a tube.  Both which still feel quite foreign to me.  I look at it as an adventure and another step in my transition to British life.

28 miles in 24 hours

I know I always write about the differences between Idaho and London when I post. I suppose it has to do with the fact that in transition from American life to British life in still in that phase of seeing everything that is different.

My post this time is about finding something that is universal. Cancer... not the happiest of topics, but think about it is there anyone in this big wide world that hasn't been affected by cancer? Whether its first hand experience, watching a loved one battle the disease, friends, neighbours, everyone has been touched by one way or another by this awful disease. 

Every year I have participated in Relay for Life to raise money for cancer research in the hopes that one day we could live in a world where cancer doesn't exist. I've sold popcorn, baked cookies, hosted film nights, and walked countless hours raising awareness and money for cancer research. I feared last year was my last year as I was moving to the UK in early 2017. Something that had been such a big part if my life wasn't going to be anymore.

Imagine my surprise when my new cousin Amit approached me at a family gathering and asked me to join his Relay for Life team. Finally something that was familiar to me! Raising money to kick cancers butt and staying awake walking for 24 hours because cancer never sleeps. 

So I joined the team of family (Amit, Maanik, Aseem, Rishi, and Jen) I didn't really know at all and set out to raise money. It wasn't easy and I didn't raise a ton (only £370) but I was doing what was familiar. 

The day of the event arrived and I was extremely nervous. I didn't know anyone very well and my husband was only going to be there a few hours before having to leave me on my own. I cried when a box of fairy cakes were dropped, panicked when trying to pack everything I would need, and shed tears when I had to say goodbye to my husband, I very nearly didn't stay at the event. I felt like such an outsider in the team and didn't have anyone I really knew and my anxiety was playing up something fierce. But I knew I would forever regret not staying and fighting for a caused I believe in. I got back to our canopy with tears still in my eyes and a very kind and wonderful Aseem auntie gave me a hug and told me everything would be ok because I was there with family. And you know what it was ok! It was just like any other relay I had done. We walked in pairs talking to pass the time, I got to know my new family even better, and I raised money for cancer research. There were themed laps that were so much fun to do, we honoured survivors, we remembered those that lost their battles, and united to fight cancer. The track lined with luminaria bags was just as beautiful and moving here as it was in Pocatello.  The lap of silence was just as emotional as that same lap I did in Idaho each year. Cancer is everywhere, it affects everyone. No matter what continent I live on I will continue to relay and raise money in the hopes that one day cancer will be curable.  It's a fight, but I'll keep going. One step at a time.