100 Posts in 100 Days
As a resident of South America, it’s winter break for me. I’ve “traveled to summer” in the US and am privileged enough to be able to spend time on the East Coast, the Midwest, and the West Coast this year.
I’m part way through my trip and I’ve been meeting a lot of different people. When asked where I’m from, I usually say something along the lines of “I’m from Seattle, but I live in Brasil.”
A pretty typical response is a series of questions, “You live in Brasil? How is it? Do you speak Portuguese?”
Sim, eu mora em Brasil. Yes, I live in Brasil. It’s big and diverse, really beautiful, and São Paulo is a bit gritty. My Portuguese gets me by. Just when I was feeling confident, the pandemic began and I spent my life on zoom speaking in English. So, it needs some attention.
I met a woman at a 4th of July barbecue who had just said goodbye to her 24 year daughter, also an ex-pat living abroad. Her daughter was returning to Germany after her first visit home to the US since the pandemic.
We started comparing stories. She was telling me about her daughter and her experiences. I was sharing some of my stories. She shared what it’s like to be a mom watching her daughter chase her dreams from a (far!) distance.
That led us to a conversation about feeling homesick, missing loved ones, and living in the moment. I told her, “I don’t know how others experience homesickness, but my version is that I generally don’t experience it when I’m in Brasil. The times I feel homesick and the most nostalgic are the times I am home.”
Life in Brasil bears many similarities to life in the US. We have our routine and our favorite places. Quick Pizza is Shauna’s “Cheers”. Our waiter, Paulo, texted to make sure everything is okay since we haven’t been in. We know which grocery stores have the best meat or produce. We know which malls have stores and brands we like. We’ve seen a number of movies, live plays and concerts. We do it all with friends from around the world, who we didn’t know just a few years ago. We do the things in Brasil that we would do in the US.
She listened to me and exclaimed, “Yes! That’s it. My daughter is happy in Germany and even changed jobs in order to be able to stay there. And I am happy for her. I’ve visited her before and I will spend Christmas there this year. All of it makes us both feel very excited.”
That led us to talking about being present and living-in-the-moment.
Sure, I get sentimental when I miss family events and traditions. Like birthdays, graduations, anniversaries, and funerals.
Certain times of year marked by community traditions leave me nostalgic (like Seafair, the Seahawks home opener, or the Gingerbread houses; Seattlites know!).
I crave foods hard to get in Brazil: Thai, Mexican, Indian (anything spicy). Mark Beckley’s enchiladas.
I miss the Washington wines and day trips to Woodinville or weekend trips to our cabin in central Washington.
Now, when I am home visiting and can see my friends and family and participate in these kinds of activities, I have a sense of presence and gratitude, the magnitude of which is amplified beyond anything I felt when I lived there full time.
When I get to spend a week in Chicago with extended family going to the town where my dad was born and taking in games at Wrigley Field, or drive to our mountain cabin, or eat at our favorite local restaurants I feel appreciative. I know these are moments that will be memories. I appreciate them in ways I could not if I had never left.
So, I take back what I said about feeling homesick when I’m home. It’s a commonly used word, but it’s not the right sentiment for me. I don’t feel “sick” or a sense of loss, but rather, I feel a sense of abundance tinged with nostalgia. I feel grateful and replenished. I look forward to the next event where I know I will show up fully present and ready to create new memories.
And the woman I met at the barbecue agreed. She relishes the moments with her daughter and absorbs them with joy, fully soaking them in and adding them to her growing collection of memories. She suspects her daughter feels similarly.
For us, the distance doesn’t make us homesick. The distance makes us present and appreciative.