I love to travel, always did. I decided to move abroad as an au pair for two years without thinking about it too much. I’m in my second year living in the States, an ocean apart from Italy, my country. In two years I’ve been abroad I lost two relatives, two people that have been part of my life since I was born.
Last year, on March 13, 2016, I’ve lost my aunt Luisa. She was diagnosed with breast cancer several years ago. She lost her battle against this terrible enemy three months after I left home. I will always remember the last time that I saw her, on my farewell party with all the family. We took a terrible picture together because she was saying it would have been the last one. I didn’t pay attention that much but unfortunately, she was right.
On May 11, 2017, I lost my beloved Grandpa. I’m still crying while writing this post because my heart is broken in tons of pieces. My Grandpa was the happiest and messiest person that I’ve ever met. He drank a lot, he played a lot of instruments and he was always doing something, every single time I was going to his house. Last November, thanks to my host family, I went back home for one week and as soon as he saw me he smiled and said: “you’ve lost weight … almost.” I took as a compliment and I ate a piece of cake that he made because he was a great and weird chef. I heard his voice a month ago, my parents told me he was happy to hear my voice.
This is what people don’t talk about when you move abroad. They talk about being away from your family but they clearly don’t say what really sucks: when someone dies, for the last time, you are not going to be there for them but most of all you are not going to be there for the rest of your family. You can’t hug your mom, your dad or your brother. You are going to cry by yourself in a room that now is yours, speaking on the phone with your mom in tears. You are going to sigh loudly. You are going to hear a lot of “I’m sorry”, and you know that they really are, but they didn’t know how amazing the person you lost was, they don’t know how the world is less bright because of that. If you are lucky you are going to have friends, a kind of weird family, a boyfriend, someone that loves you and hugs you but you know, no matter what, that that one person you would love a hug from is gone forever.
I don’t want anyone to tell me: “it was your choice, you knew the consequences.” Yeah, I knew and I still know the consequences of living abroad but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t deeply hurt losing someone. No matter what, when you leave you don’t think about this. You don’t think about receiving a call in which your parents tell you the words you are so afraid to hear. You don’t think about this. Everyone talks about the fun part, others talk about the hard parts but few talks about what really sucks about living abroad: what happens when you lose someone you love and you can’t go back.
Ps: I wrote this post two nights ago, after I discovered my granpa was gone forever. It may not make sense but I want to post it and I’m doing it.