A special letter about one of the challenges of living abroad.
I wish to take care of you, or at least to be by your side even though you can’t recognize me right now. I wish to pretend you are a nice elderly lady I had just met and somehow to make you laugh. I wish to enjoy the moment when you are asleep to remind your unconscious mind how much I care about you, hoping I have the opportunity to say that again in better circumstances. Ideally, I would like to say this to your conscious mind, when I don’t run the risk of being confused for a crazy stranger talking nonsense to you.
I am concerned about you and it is not without reason. First, it is your golden age, which we can’t deny. Second, the seemingly endless soap opera about the Covid-19 pandemic where you are in the most vulnerable risk category – don’t we wish this awful worldwide reality was a mere soap opera? Third and the most pressing reason is the sudden stroke you experienced a couple of days ago. Finally, because we did not just meet – we have a long history together.
Acute was the pain I felt when I learned about our family decision to pay an unfamiliar person to stay with you overnight at the hospital. Believe me, I tried to understand them; but you weren’t even there for a week yet. Actually you were not there for even a couple of days. Were you often spending nights in the hospital? No! Were they afraid of not knowing how to be helpful or what to do in case of an emergency? Come on, for sure they know how to talk, scream and press a button if they need to. Was the sacrifice too great to exchange one night of sleep in order to stay by your side in the hospital? I couldn’t understand them. And, yes, I judged them a lot – all of them, uncles, aunties-in-law, and cousins. I really did, and I am so sorry about that!
Why am I sorry? Because the same way I judged them, I judge myself (surely even more so). Who am I to judge their action now if I was the first one from our family to leave everybody behind? First, I left home attempting to have a degree and a future career, which I eventually abandoned. Twelve years later, I move from my home country to pursue two main goals, beyond the adventure of immigration with all its learning processes and hurdles to overcome. One of these main goals was to achieve a PhD, an idea that I let go; and the other one was to ‘save’ my marriage, which ultimately did not succeed. Life can be so bewildering sometimes. Does all that mean I am unhappy now? No!
Regardless of all the reasons, excuses, motivations, effort, or destiny that brought me here where I am, I have freely chosen to live far away from all of you, including you – my unique second mom. So, who am I to discuss or even get upset or disappointed about how they are going to take care of you? Sure, I am your firstborn granddaughter, also Goddaughter – the one that sees you every two years and calls you a few times per year.
The feeling of guilt and powerless slaps me once in a while, but right now I feel like someone suddenly pulled the rug from under my feet. This emotion is dominating me and my only desire is to be still, believing that I deserve nothing less than this horrible sentiment. I have always been terrified of losing someone in our family and not being able to be there for and with all of you. This is one of those natural consequences of my life choices – living abroad.
Am I willing to change that? How could I, if it is not just about myself anymore? Would I be willing to come back to my place of birth if it was only my decision? Why did I choose to be far from all of you? Did I choose that or am I where I should be? Do I choose this every single day? Was I aware of my life track when I was seventeen leaving Sombrio to study in Florianópolis – the first most difficult and exciting of my decisions? What are my priorities in life at this moment? What are my sacrifices?
Some days the answers are right there, confident at the tip of my tongue. Some days the answers are vague and contradictory, and from time to time I feel empty and lost with only questions and no answers. All of them are in constant motion. Every now and then they knock at my door and come as a weird wave. What can I do? Invite them to come in and let them sit comfortably, or let the wave rush over me, going in full force. Then, wait for the next visit, because if it is not about these hundreds of tough questions, there will be others. Life is wonderful, ironic and crazy hard.
For the time being, I am sure about one thing. Since I moved out at seventeen years old, I have learnt not to be shy and to express my feelings towards you (and my grandpa) – and I don’t have plans to change that. Despite all the distance that separates us, and the lack of acquaintanceship, I love you Grandma and I wish you many years of good health with us!
Happy Birthday my darling.
With love,
Your grand(God)daughter, Gislaine
Updates:
Thankfully, at this present moment, my grandma has already recuperated, regained her health and memory, and recognized me by FaceTime – which left me overjoyed. I am also extremely happy to see my mother’s family’s arrangement of the list of people who should spend the weekends with my grandparents, giving them support and being their company. From the bottom of my heart, it would be such a pleasure to be part of this list.
Hey, don’t think I am saying that only because of the provoking pictures – of my grandpa’s nice and tasty barbecue – which you guys are posting almost weekly, in our WhatsApp family group. Of course, I can’t deny that the combination of 1. family gatherings, 2. tropical days, and 3. our incomparable food hit me with a wonderful nostalgia. Okay, not always wonderful: after all this combination consists of my Achilles’ heel… but that is topic for another post!
As I was saying, from the bottom of my heart, it would be such a pleasure to be part of this list, providing and sharing some special moments with my grandparents in the presence of their only grand grandson – my remarkable son.