Yesterday, I said goodbye to my family at Heathrow. I cried the length of the Piccadilly line on my way back and curled up on the couch to watch videos of a baby polar bear to make myself feel better.
It never gets easier.
After three weeks of adventures, which included dining at Duck & Waffle, sampling escargot in Paris, shopping for chocolate in Bruges, playing Apples to Apples at Christmas dinner, and watching the new Star Wars movie in Walthamstow - I woke up from a nap thinking that my family's visit was all a dream. The house, once busy and full, was now quiet, still.
Every time, it's the same: my parents go, and I'm left with the gifts they spoiled me with during their visit. This time, it was the congee my mom helped me cook, the eggs my dad made the night before to go with it (which I promptly ate while sobbing into my bowl), a completely new set of tableware from Heal's still in their bags, and practically a new wardrobe from COS, which my mom and I had picked out together.
I look at all these things and cry some more.
Once they leave, I comb the house for something they might have left behind. Anything to remind me of their stay. But my mother had stripped the bed and put the sheets in the wash, so I resorted to picking through their trash for remnants: receipts, ticket stubs, and discarded shopping bags. I only brightened up in the shower when I noticed that she'd left her shower cap behind. I carefully folded it and tucked it away, saving it for future visits.
As someone who has lived abroad for almost 10 years, I can tell you that saying goodbye at the airport never, ever gets easier. You think it would, but it doesn't. I suppose the hardest part about yesterday was the realization that I didn't want to go back with them; rather, I just wanted them to stay with me.
The thought of returning to the small hometown I grew up in after our fantastic time in London, Paris, and Bruges depressed me.
I realized that I belonged here. In the city. In my house. The one with the fire extinguisher mounted on the wall and the kitchen that makes no sense and the upstairs shower that doesn't work.
And that made me sad. Happy, but sad. Happy that I've found that feeling of "home" I've been searching for, but sad that it cemented the fact I'll probably always live far from my family.
Saying goodbye is always the hardest part. The best we can do as expats is to remind ourselves that "next time" is not too far away.
Season's greetings to you, and to your nearest and dearest - and a very happy new year.
xo
I look at all these things and cry some more.
Once they leave, I comb the house for something they might have left behind. Anything to remind me of their stay. But my mother had stripped the bed and put the sheets in the wash, so I resorted to picking through their trash for remnants: receipts, ticket stubs, and discarded shopping bags. I only brightened up in the shower when I noticed that she'd left her shower cap behind. I carefully folded it and tucked it away, saving it for future visits.
As someone who has lived abroad for almost 10 years, I can tell you that saying goodbye at the airport never, ever gets easier. You think it would, but it doesn't. I suppose the hardest part about yesterday was the realization that I didn't want to go back with them; rather, I just wanted them to stay with me.
The thought of returning to the small hometown I grew up in after our fantastic time in London, Paris, and Bruges depressed me.
I realized that I belonged here. In the city. In my house. The one with the fire extinguisher mounted on the wall and the kitchen that makes no sense and the upstairs shower that doesn't work.
And that made me sad. Happy, but sad. Happy that I've found that feeling of "home" I've been searching for, but sad that it cemented the fact I'll probably always live far from my family.
Saying goodbye is always the hardest part. The best we can do as expats is to remind ourselves that "next time" is not too far away.
Season's greetings to you, and to your nearest and dearest - and a very happy new year.
xo
Happy New Year lovely, I'm glad that you had a wonderful time with your family. Goodbyes really are hard.
ReplyDeleteThank you, my dear! Happy New Year too! Having my family here to celebrate was very special indeed!
DeleteI've only been a 'permanent' expat for a year, and saying goodbye is always so hard! Hope you have a very Happy New Year :) x
ReplyDeleteDefinitely, Katie! It was hard for me then and it's just as hard for me now! I think it was especially difficult as I hadn't seen my family for a whole year this time around ... hopefully we'll have more visits in 2016! Hope you have a very happy new year :) x
DeleteI have to admit, even though the country I moved to is on the same island as home, I'm not looking forward to saying goodbye to my parents and Scotland in a few days.
ReplyDeleteHope you all had a wonderful New Year and an even better 2016 ahead of you.
I know it's tough for you, Sorcha - and I hope you have a wonderful few days with your family yet! I think the more we become "adults" the more we realise how important our family is to us! Wishing you a wonderful 2016 xx
DeleteI remember these feelings when I was an expat. Now that I'm back in the small town I grew up in, I'm more sad to not be that expat saying goodbye to the ones I love. (Is that very selfish?)
ReplyDeleteIt's not selfish AT ALL, Erin. In fact, I'm sure I'd have the same feelings if I moved back! The grass is always greener, etc. but I'm hoping that we'll have some better (i.e. faster) transportation options in the future instead of 10-hour flights to make things a little more bearable, so we can go back and forth as much as we'd like!
DeleteI hate the bittersweet moments of expat life. ❤
ReplyDeleteWhat makes it better is that people like you understand what it's like :) x
DeleteI read this a couple of days ago (on my phone so couldn't comment) but I was like 'gotta come back to this and write something because I understand how it feels!!!' – I've also lived 'away from home' (whatever that means haha) for close to 10 years (!! scary; also scary how many parentheses I've used -_-) and I totally get the thing about saying goodbye. When I was living in Melbourne in Australia for high school, and I was still young I suppose, but every time leaving home I had one week of 'mourning' after I got back, even though I had friends in school etc, it was a time where I tried very hard to remember and hold onto home.
ReplyDeleteAnd now, even in London after moving from Melbourne, it's the same. I recently went home for a trip back in Oct-Nov (it's been 2 years) and it was pretty much kind of the same though not quite, like your tube ride home. Trying to 'treasure' items/things/words from family, friends and somehow making it work. And the hardest is always trying to cope being alone, in many ways, of not being their presence.
But at risk of sounding too depressing, this is why we travel eh ;) happy new year to you Jaime - been a 'silent' reader of sorts for a while! Hope you have extremely exciting travel plans ahead xx
Cherie!!! What a wonderful message to wake up to - thank you so much for reading and for your comment! I'm heartened to know that you have had similar experiences - I feel like so many people I know have transatlantic families/lives! Where is "home" for you? xx
DeleteI suppose I will always consider Malaysia home, I was born and grew up there :) but I think now I'm in a mindset of home is wherever family is and where I can find most comfort in!
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