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| London 1908 – Steeplechase |
In the background, hovering, is the fact that I’m leaving at the end of the month. It’s everywhere, it lays dormant until someone mentions an event that’s coming up “oh, no, I can’t come but G can, I wont be here” and then it’s there, smack, right in your face.
G and I continue to get busier and busier, which means there’s less time for talk, less time for consultation. We have a rough idea of how things will work and plans are slowly falling into place – but we are yet to look each other in the eye. We make broad sweeping statements, but we shy away from the detail.
The weekend refused to stick to its original plan. The sleepover took a twist when we found out our neighbour had lost his mother. Expat life has its hurdles, but the one that appears to be the biggest to jump, is illness. Whether it’s yours or your family, a new set of obstacles appear, the fact that you’re away from home turns your marathon into a steeplechase.
When someone dies it doesn’t matter where you are, life stands still for a moment while you regroup with family and let the news sink in. When you’re an expat it means booking flights, maybe getting travel approval from the office and arranging for extended leave. If you have children, all of a sudden you’re trying to negotiate the ridiculous notion of fitting Grandmas funereal around the calculus exam. You’re on the phone constantly to family and friends, but there’s nothing hiding what’s really going on; you’re miles from home and you have a desperate urge to be with those who understand.
I missed my Grandmother’s funereal. I was heavily pregnant with the second little traveler and had just returned from Australia to KL when she died. My mother made me promise not to come back when it happened. I’d watched my Grandmother only weeks before become progressively worse in the nursing home, I held her hand while she begged for help – she was in incredible pain. She had one request for me “don’t you go getting all sentimental and call that baby Mabel – I hated the name”. She knew me to well. I was getting sentimental, I was thinking of calling the baby Mabel.
My mother emailed me the eulogy my father read at the funeral. My sister said it was beautiful, that’s when I realized that funerals weren’t for the dead – they’re all about the living. It’s a chance to say a proper goodbye, a well thought out, planned ending. When I finally returned to Australia eight months later, I’d almost convinced myself that there was a possibility it had all been a terrible mistake, that maybe there was a slight chance that she’d be there. If you haven’t seen the moment, attended the funereal, seen the headstone or listened to the memorial, it’s easy to pretend it never happened.
I know for G it’s not working how he wants it to. He’s busy at work, and there are events in his calendar in November that he can’t miss. He wants to be with me, but he needs to be with the children. I’ve seen him looking at air miles and calendars, but I don’t ask because I know he can’t make it work. He gets quieter, egg shells get sprinkled. We continue to go about our separate plans, we don’t make eye contact, because if we do, we’ll have to admit that this is really happening.
As we get closer, we’ll acknowledge that we’ll get through this. I will stop saying “it is what it is”. G will surrender and give up on the idea of physically being in two places at once. We will clear all of the barriers required, stretch ourselves for the water jumps and sprint to the end separately with an aim of ending together. And hopefully at some stage, one of us will admit that we were shit scared throughout the entire process.
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Wishing you all the best and a very speedy recovery.
Thank you xx
I’ve done the mad dash home for funerals. Twice. I’ve also listened to those close by and far away and NOT dashed home to farewell a beautiful friend. I’m not sure I’ve ever been able to articulate those feelings as well as you have here.
Such a beautifully written post. My heart goes out to your G ! Wishing you and your family smooth sailing over the difficult path ahead.
Thanks Dee, I’ve watched many friends struggle with the decision of when to go home, and then kick themselves for getting the timing wrong. I’m really struggling with being away for so long – but also acutely aware that there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. So annoying.
All the best and hopefully this will bring some smoother sailing to your health going forward 🙂
Even if you do dash home from the funeral, it is still shocking the next time you visit home. You still expect to find the person there.
“eggshells are sprinkled” – is that an Australianism?
When I was about 8 years old and we were living in Taiwan, my mother got the news that her sister had been killed in a car crash. She couldn’t travel to the funeral as she was 8+ months pregnant with my sister at the time. Still such grief all these years later.
Hope the surgery and those 6 weeks go by as quickly as possible – speedy recovery!
My Grandmother died about two weeks after we arrived at our first expatriate posting- I vividly remember looking back at her as I left the hospital for the last time. The rush home to see my 2 year old nephew before we gathered to turn of his life support. I cried all the way back to Australia, It felt like I had glass in my eye’s. My husbands mother having a massive stroke and never really recovering, a slow dying and leaving while we were overseas. The difficulty of returning home for funerals and then returning overseas to grieve in isolation from the ones you love.
I so relate to this post, even though I have not gone through exactly the scenarios you are talking about they are what worry me enormously. And even now, my nana has dementia that is getting rapidly worse, and my mum has had two pretty major surgeries in the past year that I should have been there for to just hold her hand and support. And I think about what we would do if the worst happened mid-term, how we would get back, which kids could come and which would need to stay behind because, you know, exams etc.
This is a beautiful post and I am wishing you as smooth sailing as possible for what is ahead.
Michelle xx
Thank you for putting into words what we all feel. Sending love and light to you and your family.
Being away from home sucks sometimes. That’s all there is to it. We miss out on birthdays, weddings, funerals and everything in between. Sometimes we can make the trek (and depending on where you live, it is a trek) home, and more often than not for all sorts of reasons we don’t.
I had to choose between two family functions while living in Japan and it was horrible to have to emotionally weigh up with one to go to.
it would be so lovely to be one of ‘those’ expats who can afford to travel back and forth when ever the mood or situation arises, meanwhile for most of us it’s hard emotional and financial decisions simply to ‘go home’.
Whatever lies ahead, i hope that you, G and the kids are reunited soon.
x
Missing things like weddings and friend’s babies being born is the downside to being an expat. My grandfather is ill at the moment, I’m not sure what I’ll do should the worst happen. There are so many things that impact on whether to go or not. Financially, logistically (I have 2 young kids) and I hate flying.
It’s hard to be separated from your family, especially your children. I hope the time goes quickly and you make a speedy recovery x