Welcome to the inaugural run of the #TrailingSpouseStories blog crawl hosted by Tala Ocampo and Didi of D for Delicious.This November we talk about our First Voyage as trailing spouses and what we’ve brought with us, rather: what’s in your suitcase?Please see the end of the post for other #TrailingSpouseStories.
When we left the Philippines to start a new life in another country, we left many things behind. Clothes were given away. Toys were given away. Furniture was sold. Our car was sold. We said goodbye to Miyagi. Although I’m still holding out hope he can join us here someday.
|Miyagi, stealer of fried chicken.|
We packed our bags and headed to the airport. One thing that we brought with us though, which was the exact opposite of a blessing, was diarrhea.
Bam, bam, bam, BAM! It hit all four of us. No one was spared. Thank you universe. You made what was an already stressful, anxiety-filled, never-done-this-before-we’re-just-gonna-wing-it, 13-hour journey trapped in a confined space with two very young children, into a veritable sh*t storm of soul-crushing proportions.
Maybe it was all the holiday food we had ingested (like pigs) the night before. Maybe it was the anxiety of moving home and hearth to a place you’ve never been before. Maybe it was all the long goodbyes and false ‘see you soons’ at the end. Maybe it was Miyagi’s revenge for leaving him. Maybe this was looking less like a Goonies family adventure and more like a Saw III horror-fest, sprinkled with what-the-F-just-happened bewilderment.
Let me just say that Narita Airport has the best restrooms. Arigatou gozaimasu!
Restrooms on the plane – not so best. You know it. You’ve seen it. Just don’t breathe it. Because there’s no way to scrub your lungs. And you know that moment when you’re halfway through changing your baby’s diapers and you realize that you’re not gonna’ make it all the way to the end on one breath? Right. Now imagine diapers + diarrhea.
Panic and then eyes start to tear.
Days later, as we settled into our newfound surroundings and cleaner clothes, we were able to reflect back on our experience. It was in a way, a bizarre and super inconvenient manifestation of us letting go. Figuratively. Emotionally. Mentally. Physically. Spiritually? Bloody literally.
Letting go of our friends, our family, our comforts, our routines, our home, our lives. Everything. Gone and getting farther and farther away from life as we know it.
Starting again. Blank slate. Square one in a round peg.
And as the days pile up, taking me farther and farther from the cubicle at Narita (I keep saying Narnia in my head), I look back and try to remember the life I once knew. Regret. Nostalgia. Fondness. Pain. Brotherhood. Freedom. All memories put on pause, tucked away in a special place in the back of my head. To be replayed when heart aches and home sicks.
But if there’s one good thing I’ve realized, even if you leave, it’s kinda hard to forget that sh*t.
- for my brothers.
- Jenny's story on MyMommyology
- Tala's story on Tala Ocampo
- Shine's story also on Tala's blog
- Nix's story on Driving Spiderman
- Glendale's story on My Kandy Krush
- Char's story on Ice Cream Sessions
- Tracy's story on Tala's blog
- Milen's story on Tala's blog
- Didi's story on D for Delicious
- Cath's story on D for Delicious