Home away from home

I want to document this yet I am not sure how to start.

Got back home away from home, this feeling is complicated. Having spent 2 weeks with my family at home throws me off balance.

I moved away from Hong Kong when I was 22, almost 10 years ago. From Shanghai to Beijing, to Copenhagen. From being too excited to be free and on my own to wishing that I live just a little closer, that I could spend a little more time with my parents, my brother.

To tell you the truth, it is not until the recent 2 years had I started to realise how much I have missed out. I missed my brother’s last years of high school, missed watching him grow up from a wee teenager, to the adult man he is today. I missed the yacht trip that i know my mum really wanted me to join every summer, I missed her teenage again spirit. I missed my own grandmother’s funeral, I missed the many appointments my brother managed to bring my other grandmother to.

Living in a culture so very far removed from them makes it so difficult to have something to talk about every time we are on the phone. Living half way across the world makes family gathering so condensed, so intense.

Being constrained by geographical location, space and time. It takes me 2 weeks every time to get in synch with them again, just in time for me to fly “home” again.

I flew back to Copenhagen this morning, decided to teach.

But I quickly realise as much as I do enjoy teaching, there’s a part of me who’s not quite in the mood.

My inner child is mourning, not about saying goodbye again, but the time I am going to miss being away.

I can’t help but think about the remaining years that my grandmother still has, my mother, my father still have left. And that I can only manage to see them 2 weeks at a time, twice a year. Yet every time I go, I feel as though I am not allow to show this sadness, for I am the one who has chosen to move away, chosen to live the life I live today.

Perhaps I’m just being a big cry baby but how does one remain whole being so far removed from the lives of those that one love, that one literally share the same history, root and blood with?


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