A love letter to the Coughlin Harris family

On the eve of their departure

My dear friends are heading back to the US tomorrow after 4 months here in New Zealand. I knew I would come to love them, but I did not know how much.

For Becky

I love you because you laugh like a sailor with a deep belly laugh that suggests whiskey-filled smoky rooms and the click of poker chips but you have the face of an angel. I love you because you are sunshine and then storm and then bright sun again like the New Zealand weather. I love the way you can be 7 and sardonic at the same time. I love you because you make me laugh.

For David

I love you because you love the orange striped chair so much. I love you because of the way you love Becky, your eyes on her happiness as much as your own. I love you because you’re are a silly racing running little boy, and then you bubble up with warmth and affection and delight. I love the way you love to weed the garden and point out birds to your dad. I love the way you bring love to everything you do.

For Abby

I love you for your singing bright beauty. For your straightforward honesty that is so much like your mom’s. I love you for the freckles across your nose and your dramatic poses. I love you when you’re totally un-self-conscious, and when you’re totally self-conscious. I love the way you tell stories and write plays and make up dances. I love the fast-talking Jersey girl and the self-composed young woman I see. I love you for who you are and who you are becoming.

For Jim

I love the way you tease yourself as much as you tease others. I love your easy-going, go-with-the-flow nature. I love your passions: for your photographs, your birds, your school—and most of all for your family. I love the quiet intensity of you studying rugby moves to learn all the rules and strategies just through watching. I love your devotion to helping us out and the way you seem to get actual joy from making our lives better. I love the way you face your life so openly and curiously, with your defenses down and your warmth reaching forward. I have loved having you as my work buddy and watching you unfold as a researcher.

For Carolyn

I love the way you can tell me what’s going on for you—whether you’re sad or mad or overcome with joy—and we both know that it will all be ok. I love that I love that you and I are so aligned in doing things for one another that we can ask and ask for favors and never feel guilty about it. I love the way you made beds in order to sell my house and made financial models to see if we should take the offer. I love watching you get grounded here and delight the folks in New Zealand with the easy warmth that has delighted folks in the Americas for the rest of your life. I love the way you inhabit this place, your love of the people and the sea and the ever-present rainbows. I love the way you listen so intently to someone in pain but don’t notice the cacophony that surrounds us when our five children get together. I love that you collect grocery-store bags, make your own yogurt, and have learnt to cook. In fact, I’m pretty sure I love everything about you.

Your family has become my family in these months. Who knew I could love you so much in such a short time. I hope your New Jersey life enfolds you with love and delight, that your days at the lake are filled with beauty and bliss, and that you remember each and everything you love about the US. And I hope you come back soon. We’ll keep the house ready for you.