Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

As an adult third culture kid living in a decidedly non-TCK environment, I realize more than ever how much our lifestyle sets us apart. There are fundamental differences in the way we experience and see the world, compared to non-TCKs/expats. Some things can’t be learned on theory alone and all the words in the world would not be able to truly explain them. There are many things I could write about that we experience so differently, but the one I wanted to write about today is the ever present flow of goodbyes in the life of a TCK or expat.

How do you explain the expat/TCK cycle of moving every so often? Of having to watch friends leave and saying goodbye, not knowing if you’ll ever see them again? Of being the one leaving, knowing you’re going someplace completely foreign and leaving behind everything familiar – your house, friends, school, city?…

How do you explain thinking “this time I won’t make friends, so it will be easier when we leave”, but knowing that won’t happen as soon as you meet a kindred soul? How do you explain that as difficult as it is to say goodbye, you’d rather go through that than experience everything alone?

How do you explain the contradictory notion that the goodbyes get simultaneously tougher and easier as the years go by? As you get older, you manage the goodbyes better, yet by the same token, the older you are, the deeper the feelings, so the goodbyes tug even more at your heart.

We must seem crazy to non-TCKs/expats when we try to explain it. It must seem awful to them, to those people who have lived all or most of their lives in the same place, rarely having to say goodbye, almost never having to pack up their life and start again somewhere new. There are many hardships with such a life and on bad days you notice them even more. But on the good days you know how lucky you are and how much you have gained through all your experiences.

As a TCK, you learn very quickly the importance of communication and connecting with people. Often TCKs and expats make deeper connections much faster than first culture kids, because we know how precious each second is, before we’re whisked away to another country. We also understand each other on a deeper level, even if we never lived in the same countries or speak the same languages. We experienced the same emotions, felt the same fears, and shared the same joys. We know the deep sorrow of heartbreaking goodbyes and the powerful happiness of making new friends. We know all too well what it’s like to be the new kid, lost and alone, hoping someone stretches out a helping hand without us having to ask. We know that the smallest gesture of kindness can lead to the strongest of friendship. We also know that even if people change, grow apart or lose contact over the years, the friendships were true and deep while they lasted.

That is why even after going through so many goodbyes, we’re still ready to let others in and to open ourselves to them. We know that no matter how hard the goodbyes might be, everything in between them is so worth it. I think TCKs learn how true that is at a very young age, without ever being told.

Perhaps what I find the most difficult to explain is the one thing I know with the most certainty: that even with those heartbreaking moments, with so many tears shed over goodbyes, with having to figure it all out time and time again, I’d still do it all over again.

“Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all”.           Alfred Lord Tennyson

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Signs of Hope

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A Tale of Two Seasons

Snow still covers the ground,

As the first day of spring comes around.

The skies are gloomy and overcast,

As we hope that spring has arrived at last.

 

Could it be the voices of the larks,

Happily chirping throughout the parks?

Could it be the gentler, softer breeze,

That replaces winter’s cold and biting sneeze?

 

Could it be the glimpse of blue sky,

That beneath those gray clouds we spy?

Could it be the sun’s bright and golden light,

So welcome after winter’s fading white?

 

Snow still covers the ground,

As we wait for spring to truly come around.

The skies are gloomy and overcast,

As we wait for some sign that spring will last.

 

The first day of spring has come and gone,

Leaving us with hope that winter will soon move on.

 

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Reflections on a Winter’s Day

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Downhill Adventures: Present

These first two months of the year have passed by in a whirlwind. We’re almost in March and I haven’t even realized that February had time to come and go. I’m 2 weeks away from turning 28 and I can’t believe I’ve already spent a year at 27. I hadn’t been skiing in at least 6 years, my husband had never skied in his life, and suddenly, on a whim, we went skiing in January. And since then, he’s been itching to go again – unfortunately weather and other factors have made that impossible so far, but hopefully we’ll go again soon!

In the meantime, here are a few words and photos about our first time skiing together (and just overall first time on the slopes for my husband!).

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As I mentioned in my earlier post about skiing, I ski, I don’t snowboard. I went from normal skis to snow blades, but it is still skiing. I have never tried snowboarding. Maybe someday I will, but I’m not so sure. There’s just something about having both of my feet stuck on one board that just worries me. Oddly enough, however, what scares me about snowboarding is what reassured my husband: he preferred the idea of having his 2 feet on one board and thought it was disconcerting to have them on 2 separate ones. I was very amused by our complete opposite views on that and also impressed that he was brave enough to try it out. He just threw himself right into his snowboarding lesson, and thank goodness he did. He loved every second of it. He even surprised his instructor by picking everything up so quickly, really being at ease on the snowboard and hardly falling throughout our hours of snow fun.

While he continued his lesson, I took a lesson of my own. Sure, I had skied nearly every year for most of my life, but it had been at least 6 years since the last time I was on the slopes, and this was a totally new place for me. Having an instructor for the first hour turned out to be really great as it let me find my ski groove again, get some helpful tips on my form and relax my nerves too. I was definitely nervous after so many years without skiing, but it was a wonderful feeling to ski again. It was freeing and invigorating. It was so much fun to go down a few slopes with my husband and to share those feelings with him. It was great to watch him snowboard and see him be so natural at it. Watching the exhilarating joy he felt coming down the slopes reminded me of what I loved about skiing, and what I had missed these past years.

What I love most about skiing is the feeling of freedom when you’re gliding down the slopes. It’s that peacefulness of forgetting everyone around you, just hearing the sounds of the snow crunching under your blades, the sun warming your face and sparkling on the snow crystals. It’s also the sense of accomplishment at the end of a day of skiing; the gratifying feel of tired muscles after a hard day of play. The accompanying serenity of a day of fresh air and the peaceful happiness it provides. It’s an indescribable feeling, and it’s beautiful.

And I know my husband felt it too that day.

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The Little Clownfish That Wreaked Havoc

Well, this post was originally going to be about my latest skiing adventures, but nature decided to throw a few snowflakes our way this past weekend, so the skiing entry will have to wait just a little longer.

So, with the help of my lovely new camera, let me introduce you to today’s topic:

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About a week ago, the weather channel turned on to high alert as it warned us about the winter wrath making its way through the states, heading towards the unsuspecting Northeast. Ok, unsuspecting may not be the right word, since we heard about this storm every second for at least a week before it hit, but I figure I’m allowed some poetic license here. So while state officials scrambled to get enough snow plows, salt and crews ready to prevent disaster, and the power companies attempted to avoid a riot by fanning out their crews to potential outage zones, I remained baffled by the name choice for this storm: Nemo. When I hear the name Nemo, I think of a little clownfish who was the star of a Disney/Pixar film. A clownfish. Not a shark, not a whale, not even a barracuda. Doesn’t quite seem like the most appropriate name for a seemingly apocalyptic snow storm, but maybe that’s just me.

So there you have it. The build up to the storm of the century (again, poetic license), the blizzard of the decade (this is almost accurate)…They got this one right. We definitely got some snow. Actually, that’s a gruesome understatement – we got A LOT of snow. So much snow that our apartment parking lot looks like the bottom of a ski slope. It’s been a workout so far. No need to go to the gym this week!

Enough words for now, let me leave you with some photos. I thought I would begin with a type of time lapse of the blizzard, and then I’ll post some of my favorite photos.

Nemo Time Lapse:

This is towards the beginning of the snowfall - probably a couple of hours in. Just barely a dusting, considering what followed.

This is towards the beginning of the snowfall – probably a couple of hours in. Just barely a dusting, considering what followed.

This is late at night - the blizzard was in full swing at this point, but would get even worse shortly after!

This is late at night – the blizzard was in full swing at this point, but would get even worse shortly after!

The following morning: the skies still seem to be threatening to dump more snow...

The following morning: the skies still seem to be threatening to dump more snow…

...But instead this happened a few hours later. The beauty of it was breathtaking.

…But instead this happened a few hours later. The beauty of it was breathtaking.

And a final one for the time lapse, as the sun slowly moved along...

And a final one for the time lapse, as the sun slowly moved along…

And now for some of my favorites:

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This photo deserves a little background story: this storm was the perfect opportunity for me to really play around with my new camera. I tried all sorts of settings (special setting for snow photos, for dusk photos…), and it was a huge learning experience for my manual focus. This is one of my favorites using the manual focus…And there were a lot, believe me. That’s what happens when you give me a DSLR with a pretty big memory card. I was having a blast!

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Oh yes. This is our parking lot. This is why I said no need for the gym this week. The past 3 days we have worked out so much with hours of shoveling. Yes, shoveling – not snowblowing, not plowing, manual shoveling. I would say it took about 2.5 hours just to clear our car. And we didn’t stop after our car.  But truth be told, it’s been awesome!

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DSC_0190DSC_0199And a few evening shots to finish the day…

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Until next time...

Until next time…

I hope you enjoyed, and that all of you affected by the blizzard stayed safe and warm! Also, any feedback or comments on the photos are always welcome as I’ve just started using my DSLR and would definitely love to learn more!

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Downhill Adventures: Past

When I was a kid, we went skiing as often as we could and we were all taught to ski as soon as possible. For a long time I wasn’t really a big fan of skiing. I felt awkward and stiff on my skis, I hated going to lessons (I liked it better when dad taught us), and my fingers and toes were always cold. Besides, where we often skied those first years there was more ice than snow, and I had some bad experiences. Even to this day whenever I hit a patch of ice I feel irrational panic and fear. I’m always afraid I’ll lose control and end up tumbling down the rest of the slope.

Over the years, my relationship with skiing changed and I found moments of pleasure. There were several things that played a role in that. First of all, we actually skied on real slopes of snow, not hills of ice – it’s amazing the difference proper powdery snow can make. Secondly, we moved to Europe – skiing in the Alps takes the experience to a whole new level. It’s breathtaking in a way too amazing to put in words. Third, and extremely important, the way skis were made changed. Skis used to be long and skinny, and were meant to be your height or taller. That’s a lot of ski to try controlling and maneuvering. When they modified them over time, they were curved, rounded – and meant to be shorter than you – and so much easier to maneuver. They were made to carve the snow, to make those turns in the snow. Ok, it doesn’t mean I was suddenly amazing or in love with skiing, but it certainly helped improve my opinion and experience of skiing.

But then something happened. I experienced a joy and a freedom I had never felt before when skiing. This changed my outlook on skiing forever. I tried snow blades. For those who don’t know what they are, they are simply shorter skis. As in, half the size of regular skis. And to me, they were pure bliss. My dad let my try his, and after one slope I was hooked. There was no going back. Less length to be hassled with, no poles (I hate ski poles – no idea why, I just do); pure freedom on the slopes like I had never felt before. I had so much more control and I was tearing down those slopes. I was confident, something I rarely was when skiing. More importantly and surprisingly, I was blissfully and completely happy.

Here’s the ironic part. We normally went skiing every year for a week, during the ski break in France. I used the snow blades for 1 or 2 years, and then my university schedule didn’t match up with my brother’s school vacation, and I haven’t been skiing in probably 6-7 years. I had finally found the joy in skiing and I hardly got to bask in it. I used to be the least excited about going skiing, and I didn’t really miss it in-between trips, but these past years I’ve definitely had moments when I missed that feeling of pure freedom as you fly down the slopes.

Although that now leads me to finish this post, it also allows me to introduce my next post, where I’ll share my most recent downhill adventure: first time skiing with my husband. Sure, I didn’t have my snow blades and it wasn’t the Alps, but it was a beautiful, fun and invigorating day. We definitely made a lot of wonderful memories – but more on that next time…

2013 is definitely off to a good start.

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