Time flies but interestingly enough, the holidays seem to last a lot longer now that the kids are grown. There was Christmas eve at church. Brianna and William came home to spend the night. There was Christmas morning. Mike came in to join us for breakfast and gift opening. Then there was Christmas afternoon at Lenora’s. Friends in for dinner on New Year’s Eve. Dylan and Brittani came in last weekend so there was Christmas with them, followed by Christmas at Anna and Dave’s.

That’s a lot of celebrating and we were well and truly blessed. As usual the biggest gifts were the ones not found under the tree. The phone calls back and forth between those who could not be with us, videos shared of the Christmases that we could not be a part of. Joyous celebrating with the people we could spend time with.

I think that Tim and I would have to agree that our biggest gift came from Cara.

Cara did not make it home this year. We have a wonderful stack of her gifts upstairs in a guest room that haven’t been sent yet. I was a little sad about that, because they are nice gifts, gifts that I spent a lot of time picking just the right thing. I’m a Christmas fool, and I take a lot of pleasure out of thinking of those gifts being opened on Christmas morning. It didn’t happen, but those gifts will wait.

You see, you cannot send a box to Afghanistan. It would cost a fortune. No hyperbole. The only one who will guarantee a delivery to a war zone is DHL, which is why it cost $182. to mail her new debit card to her. Imagine the cost of a Christmas box!

Cara has been in Afghanistan now for nearly 4 years. While my heart has made a quiet peace with the fact that my child chooses to live in a war zone, I’d be a liar if I tried to pretend that it didn’t bother me. It does. I try very hard to respect her choices, but sometimes the world news makes me sick to my stomach.

Given all that, you’ll understand why we were so excited with Cara’s gift: She will be leaving Afghanistan permanently in February.

Best. Gift. Ever.

Cara’s partner left Afghanistan in October, returning to his native England. After a lengthy search he found a very small apartment that did not object to having a very large Afghan street cat moving in. The week prior to Christmas, Cara hauled her first load of belongings out of Afghanistan to the new place that she will belong: a picturesque little village named Peterborough.

Her holiday is over now, She’s back for her final stint at the university. In three weeks, she’ll be done and then she’s going home.

Funny, isn’t it? Home was always here, and now it is not. I’m okay with that. I realized long ago that Cara would always belong somewhere else. She’d come home from time to time and we’d always be happy to see her but it would be a visit, and when that visit was done, she’d head to a home far far away.

I can deal with her being far, far away. The war zone part was what bothered me.

Cara’s finishing up in Afghanistan, in the final throes of packing up and moving out. She’ll ship a lot of stuff to Colin but she’s also got a crate of stuff coming here to be put in the attic along with stuff that she’s stashed there from the other places that she belonged. She’s never had a place big enough to have all her belongings under one roof, but I imagine the day will come.

Maki is getting used to his cat crate. He’ll be flying out on the plane with her and he has his own travel documents. Maki, veteran of wars and the mean streets of Kabul, will become a English cat as soon as he goes through customs, something that his American ‘mom’ finds curious.

His new home is outfitted and waiting for his arrival. On her Christmas vacation, Cara found a coupon and hiked four miles in the rain to buy six months worth of his favorite catfood. Colin bought him a cat tree so that he can climb up and birdwatch across the roof tops from the window. Everything is ready for Maki’s move.

For now, though, she packing. She’s finishing up at work. She’s saying good bye. Back here, I think I will be holding my breath a little until she boards that plane for the final trip out.

From my own home, far, far away, I watch this new phase of Cara’s life unfolding. I listen as she offers up these glimpses of her new life. She’s excited and bubbly. I smile, remembering the joy of new love, the excitement of new chapters. I smile because I don’t have the words to tell you how glad I am that she’s leaving Kabul. She has loved it there, and she has found love there, but I’m so glad she’s leaving there.

Cara’s gift was not wrapped. It came with no bows. It wasn’t placed under the tree. Despite that, it made Christmas at our house one of the merriest Christmases ever.