Pinot, Bretzels, and Cathedrals

Life.  Take a moment to stop, and spare a thought for the heart that pumps in your chest.

At the same time, think about where your loved ones are.  Can you climb in a car, and be at their side at a moments notice?

Sadly, in this era of globalisation, (and difficult politics,) we do not all have that luxury. Yes, I know.  We made our own decisions, and this does not necessarily garner a pity party when the paw-paw hits the fan.  But the fact is, bad things happens, and the thought of having to deal with family emergencies from afar is a scary one.

I have often spent time thinking about what we would do if a family member had an accident.  They are pretty macabre thoughts, and I’m trying to adopt a policy of not thinking about worst-case scenario until I absolutely have to, so over time, continency plans, and ‘how to deal with’ thoughts have been shelved.

But, you’ve guessed it.  Life has a scary way of catching up with you, and in October, I did have to stop and think about ‘what if?’.

It was my dear Mom who forced me to take reflection.  Mom had been in hospital for surgery.  She was back at home recovering, waiting for results.  It was 10 days later, on a cold Wednesday afternoon, and the girls and I were at a play date. As usual, I had  left my phone in my bag with coats and shoes, and was enjoying a chat and cup of tea.  Much later I idly picked up my phone to check if Anton had called, and there it was:  the message on the screen of my iPhone from my Dad:  “We are on our way home from the doctor.  It’s not good news.  Can you call after 15h30?”.

I was lucky right then to be with friends, because that wave of dread, of immediate despair ran down my spine in the worst possible way.  Without being told what the bad news was, I knew.  Like you do.  I was able to voice my concerns to my friends, but for 2 hours, until I could go back to our apartment, and have Anton at my side, I couldn’t do anything.  I wanted to talk to my Dad in the quietness of my own home, able to picture where he was.

Later in the evening, I phoned my Dad, who confirmed my expectation, but was  unable to say anything else, due to lack of further information.  More time would have to pass before we knew the worst-case scenario.

In the days following, I sat and agonized.  I so desperately wanted to be with my Mom- this is not the first time we have experienced this.  However, with 9000kilometers between us, it gets very expensive to rush across the oceans and continents, not to forget that I have my own 2 little children who need stability.  A last-minute trip to South Africa without a definite purpose and goal would be a hasty decision to say the least.

During that week of waiting for more tests, I was grateful for my network of friends, who took a moment to ask, because it was good to be able to voice myself.  After 10 days further, I had more positive news.  It is not the worst case scenario. That awful disease will be treated (hopefully) successfully, and while I will spend more time with my Mom and Dad this December than originally anticipated, I will be able to fly back to France safe in the knowledge that it won’t be the last time I spend with them.

I know this is a very naive thought, and forgive me for this.  Life is not a guarantee, and while yucky C might not take my Mom’s this time, there could be something else.  Which is something one of my Strasbourg friends is currently having to deal with as I write this.  Like a the slash of a red pen through my awful scribblings, such was the stroke that stopped a good man in his tracks.  A hasty dash across this little continent and the Channel meant she could see her father, though I doubt it was anything worse than bloody awful.  I’m told that on a morning run that very day, she had discussed the ins and outs of a sudden death- perhaps because I had raised my thoughts recently, but probably because we are all ex-pats in some form or the other, and we need to think about it.

Being an ex-pat comes with an unwritten set of guidelines- you welcome new members into your fold, you help to explain where to buy ingrediants that are unusual, you pass on the details of your English speaking doctors, you offer to help out in times of crises.  But nowhere is a list on what to do if the paw-paw hits the fan.  You actually can’t just up and leave, expecting that things will iron out.  At the same time, you can’t ignore the glaring gaps in your other life.

I am so grateful that my scenario is going to be an easy one to overcome.  Thank you, for what you can give me.  But that doesn’t make the pain that my friends are dealing with go away.  All I can do is pray that her choices come easily, and that their journey back to what they had is not fraught with too much sadness.

All my love, to each and everyone of you, across my life.  I treasure you all, so much.

Xxx