School and a deep conversation

I am finally back into the routine and life of school. On Monday morning they split our class up for the first time. I ended up in class with Donnie and Blythe! I was expecting any combination but that one. I am glad that I am with them; they are the ones I really wanted to be with. My first few days back at school were difficult for my brain and my tongue. I had forgotten so much. It seemed like the corrections were endless. Then when I met with Oksana, my language helper, on Tuesday afternoon she said “oh, you didn’t speak this last month did you. You’re Russian is not very good.” That was encouraging! Seriously though, I am encouraged to study harder this year. I really want to be able to speak Russian well. By Wednesday I could already tell that what I had forgotten was coming back to me. Thursday when I met with Oksana our conversation actually went deep.
Thursday we started a lesson on marriage. Part of my homework was to tell my parents story. I shared my parents’ story with Oksana and then she shared her parents’ story. It lead to me telling the stories of many of my family members. The most interesting story for her was the story of my Grandma and Grandpa Buchanan. They met in Allantown, Pennsylvania. I don’t know all the details but when she was 16 and he was 26 he asked for her hand in marriage. Her mother absolutely refused. Her father eventually gave them his blessing. They were married on a weekend and on Monday the stock market crashed, it was 1929. Neither of them were believers at the time. God sustained them and eventually drew them to Himself. They were married for over 50 years when my grandfather passed away. My grandmother was a widow 15 years until her death. Oksana asked me why my grandmother never remarried. I can’t imagine her ever loving anyone else.
Oksana’s question brought up how my grandmother died. My grandma had Alzheimer’s and it greatly effected the final years of her life. It wasn’t too difficult to write that last sentence, it isn’t even too painful to say it. When I talked to Oksana I had to describe it. I have never described my grandmothers’ illness before. It made it raw and real. As I was speaking I couldn’t believe that I was able to talk on such a deep and personal level in Russian. It is a level I rarely go to in English. Here I am sharing from the depths of my heart with a Russian. It is moments like that that I know God is there in my conversation. I feel so blessed to have His guidance through this process.