There
are things that being an expatriate prepared me quite well for, such as: trying
new foods, being flexible in situations where I don’t feel completely
comfortable, and making do with what is on hand. However, considering the
amount of times we had to say goodbye (to friends and family in the US before
moving to France, to new found friends who were moving on to other expat
assignments/back home, to friends and family who came to visit us while in
France, to those same dear people at the end of return trips to the US, to all
of our new friends upon our move from Clermont-Ferrand back to Greenville), I
assumed saying goodbye now would be easier.
|
photo credit: Gunārs L. |
The
holidays have brought a whole round of goodbyes, each harder than the last.
First, the house emptied of my husband’s family who had come to celebrate
Christmas with us, and although I found some consolation in the fact that the
next round of guests would soon be here, the boys had a much harder time
understanding where all their cousins went. From a full house of storytellers,
laps to sit in, buddies to chase, friends to hug, all of the sudden they had
only me – overwhelmed with daily household chores that had been put on the back
burner during “the holidays.”
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"the tackle" photo credit: Gunārs L. |
When
we returned to Greenville after several years absence, a few friends went out
of their way to make us feel comfortable and at home, welcoming us into
playgroups and introducing us to other like-minded parents with children of
similar ages. Our second goodbye came with the departure of one of those
friends with her family for New Zealand, for the start of a new adventure. As
they prepared to leave, packed and consolidated, we said goodbye; first there
was the mom’s night out goodbye, the garage sale goodbye, then the Christmas
brunch goodbye, the playdate goodbye… It is so very difficult to get closure
but not extend goodbyes, and I found myself remembering our last weeks in
Clermont with unease – saying goodbye was turning out to be harder on me than
on my friend. It’s a selfish grief, stemming from that helpless and abandoned
feeling from friends leaving you, with some jealousy mixed in, that it isn’t us
headed to the storybook country. How to put aside all this selfishness and help
our friends during the transition as they helped us? I’m afraid I failed
miserably and barely managed to say goodbye without losing it completely… Sue,
thanks for everything (including the bike which Lauris is getting tons of use
out of!), and I wish you nothing but happiness and adventure on your journey.
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Perfect sized mug for a cup of joe on a cold winter's day! |
Then
came saying goodbye to 2013, which honestly wasn’t that hard as it brought
closure to an exciting year in addition to new visitors – my parents, all the
way from Chicago. But they brought the final and hardest goodbye, as they got out of Dodge yesterday and headed back up north after taking an
extra day or two to let the snow plows and tow trucks do their job.
The house is empty and cold (literally and figuratively as South Carolina has
been hit with the same cold front), and I’m having difficulties remaining
optimistic not knowing when the boys/I will next see the
grandparents/uncles/aunts/etc.
So, we
jump into the mundane (the laundry, the grocery shopping, the chores of the New
Year) and the not-so-mundane (the birthdays coming up require some attention…).
We check in with the brother and sisters we didn’t see this holiday season, we
wait to hear that the grandparents have made it home safe. And best of all, we
plan. We dream about trips we might take, people we might see, places we would
like to visit. We pencil in weekends on the calendar to travel and see family,
and this is what eases the goodbyes; the house still feels empty and the boys
are still a bit lost, but every time I pass my new bulletin board planning
station I get excited about all the bonjours
I’ll be saying in the coming year.
****
|
First wheels! |
(Such
a depressing post on a happy day! Today we’re celebrating my husband’s
birthday, and I would like to wish a big blog bon anniversaire to mon amour!
May the next year bring you much happiness!)
Happy Birthday to your husband. It's hard staying put for a few years too. We've been here for five years and have seen so many expat friends come and so many expat friends go.
ReplyDeleteHappy Birthday to your husband and many happy returns. Sto lat!
ReplyDeleteLove the "tackle" photo.
Really depressing post! I nearly prepared for next sentence- we are moving too. But in general - you are absolutely right, always some are coming in, some are going out of our lives.
ReplyDeleteA very heart felt post Liene describing just what it is like when visitors leave ...fantastic that you plan visits...just like I do! Daudz Laimes Dzimsanas Diena!
ReplyDeleteNot depressing. Beautiful and sincere. Loved reading your words, as always.
ReplyDeleteThat's very kind, thank you Rebecca!
DeleteMy hardest goodbye ever was my dad passing suddenly away while we were living abroad. After that not a single goodbye is sad..
ReplyDeleteSo sorry for your loss Līga, I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must have been. It sure puts things in perspective, and I have a renewed sense of gratitude we never suffered such a tragedy during our expatriation. Thank you for sharing.
DeleteGoodbyes suck, it's true, but thankfully with all of the moving, there's plenty of hellos :)
ReplyDelete