It's that time of year again, The Holidays. And for most expats this brings inevitable homesickness. For me it always begins with Thanksgiving as that weekend is the anniversary of the tragic death of my cousin, her fiance, and his 3 year old daughter in a plane crash. I was set to be her maid of honor the following March. The anniversary on top of being alone for such a family oriented holiday always makes me a bit pathetic. Those of you who know me, and have lived with me abroad know this is not something that happens often. I am human afterall, and given the lifestyle I have chosen it's inevitable. No one ever said this was easy. This past week I have been missing my family just wishing I could sleep on their couch and live out of a suitcase from a trailer. I promised myself when I was home I would not wish my time away for this exact reason. That feeling where you would do just about anything to see them (and their kitties too). The good news is this always passes. As time goes on I find myself wondering if I will ever feel guilty for this time in my life I have spent on another coninent. My friends and family are nothing but supportive and it is only my own guilt that comes into play, no one is forcing it upon me. This is who I am and I recognize how lucky I am to have people in my life who love me enough to let me live this very selfish and independent life with no guilt trips. I am missing weddings, and births, and engagements, and birthdays yet not one person close to me has ever made me feel bad for that (but I do anyways, of course). This year Novemeber 27th marked the 7 year anniversary of the loss of Heather and her family. Whoever said "time heals all wounds" is full of it, that is not always the case. For whatever reason this year was a particularly difficult one for me to endure. It's not just because I am away from home as it was the same situation this time last year in Thailand. I guess it just hits hard sometimes. Thanksgiving day here I was feeling particularly down. I had an incident with my boss that day and felt like I had been hit by an emotional truck. That afternoon I had to go get my Alien Card from immigration. On my way home an old woman sat next to me on the subway. We got to talking and I came to find out she was 74, married for 50 years, and quite spry. She had studied English at multiple Universities and told me how pretty I was along with asking me why I wasn't married. 3 times. This was the first time a stranger on the metro had taken up a conversation with me. She was very kind and little did she know how much I needed it at that very moment. Her name is Mrs. Kim and she even took down my phone number as I got off the train. I haven't heard from her yet, but I hope I do so I can thank her for her kind words. This has all had me thinking a lot about time. I will try not to get too philosophical on you, but recognizing these days like Thanksgiving and Heather's day made me realize that time is all relative. I felt like a train wreck on Novemeber 22nd, and Novemeber 27th. For my relatives back home it was stil the 21st and 26th. They felt these things the following day. Each year passes and we recognize birthdays, anniversaries, holidays on a given day but when you live on another continent that reality is different for you. I suppose if you are a glass half full type you can look at it like I get two Christmas's and two birthday's each year. For the harder stuff I chose to keep it limited to just that one day if possible. Turns out regardless of the time zone we are in it doesn't make any of those feelings any less real, and sometimes you have to face the fact that even going half way across the world will not outrun the things you will always carry with you.
