You would think that it would get easier. Somehow, you would think that it would get easier the more you do it. You would think that it would get easier the older they get.
But it doesn’t. It just doesn’t get easier.
How Do You Do It?
“I don’t know how you do it,” a friend said to me. “How does your mother’s heart do it?”
I do it, because I have no choice. As for this mother’s heart, it fills like it’s being ripped out of my chest.
Another friend said, “I can’t imagine how hard it is to say ‘goodbye,’ something you guys have had to do so often. I can’t imagine. Praying for you, my friend!”
Cross-Cultural Family— The Dreaded Goodbye
I dread it. It literally makes me nauseous in the minutes and hours leading up to it. I finally reach a point where I just have to “do it”—just so it’s over.
It’s the dreaded “goodbye.”
It’s the painful ripping of my heart—another piece of it torn out of my chest—a piece that will somehow take the flight across the Atlantic and stay nestled with my child on the other side of the world. A piece of my heart that I won’t find again until I hold him in my arms once more.
We just walked out of Dulles International Airport in Washington DC. It’s not the same atmosphere in our car driving back to our home in Pennsylvania.
Change of Atmosphere
Three weeks ago, the excitement was palpable in our van. Our entire family, including our world traveling dog, Bernie, drove the three hours to the airport. We were going to pick up our son, Robert, coming home for Christmas after his first semester of university in England. We hadn’t seen him for almost four months.
It was a sweet reunion on December 15. Robert was “home,” wherever that is. He was an international—finally ‘home’ for the holidays.
As a family living abroad and “across cultures,” we have determined that “home” for our wandering boys is wherever WE are. Our physical and geographical location will forever be changing and shifting throughout the years. However, we are determined to create a safe place, a stability, a “home” for our children wherever we are, for however long we are there.
Robert came home three weeks ago, and we have had a wonderful holiday season together as a reunited family. Lots of good memories, laughter, fun, and yes, even a few conflicts along the way. But, what would family be without a few disagreements and feuds?
Never-Ending Goodbyes
Today, Robert left “home.” He said goodbye to the house in Pennsylvania where he lived for his last six months of high school. He said goodbye to his beloved dog and friend of twelve years.
I overheard their secret conversation on his way out the door. “I have to go, Bernie, “ he whispered. “It will be ok, Bud.”
I’m not sure who he was reassuring, Bernie or himself. He left, but he doesn’t know when or if he will return to this house. Our cross-cultural family doesn’t know where we will be in six months, so our adult children don’t know where they will land when their next college semester comes to an end.
We are a family living in “the land between.”
Airport Stress
Our cross-cultural family is all too familiar with airports and the stress that they bring.
Robert checked in for his flight. I prayed that the petite, Asian lady behind the airline counter would be gracious enough to overlook the three extra pounds in his suitcase that was clearly bursting at the seams.
We knew the exact weight of his suitcase, 53.9 pounds (51 pound allowance), before heading to the airport. Our nifty digital hanging luggage scale weighs in both pounds and kilos, depending on our location, and we never travel without it! We own four of them (two at our house—because we always misplace them—and one for each of our sons living abroad)!
Robert had managed to stuff his suitcase with his much-needed and much-desired items from America—all those speciality items he can’t find in Europe—or can’t afford. The lady smiled and acted like she didn’t notice the extra weight. Thank heavens!
We always hope for those types of airline agents, but we don’t always get them! In any case, Robert had his prepared plastic bag in the top of his suitcase, full of two pair of heavy blue jeans pre-weighed at three pounds. He was ready to pull the bag out and transfer it to his carry-on backpack if he needed to lighten his load. (Stay tuned for more of “My Top Traveling Tips.”)
In the Pit of Our Stomachs
Because of a two-hour delay, we had some extra time before Robert needed to pass through security. We went to a little coffee shop for something to drink. We sat there in an awkward mix of silence and small talk. The dreaded moment was approaching. We could all feel it in the pit of our stomachs.
The feeling started last night when I helped Robert pack and weigh his suitcase until 3 am. We then sat together at the dining room table while he ate a last bowl of his favorite American cereal. We kissed each other good night, both knowing that it would be the last time for awhile.
This morning, I woke him up at 10 a.m. It would be the last time for awhile.
The three-hour car ride to DC was a bit more quiet and heavy. The sweet holiday reunion had come to an end. We could never go back.
The Inevitable
We sat in that coffee shop, knowing that we couldn’t avoid the impossible.
We had to cross the bridge of goodbye.
Robert looked at his watch. “Well, I think it’s time to go.” We all nodded our heads.
We prayed with him, asking God’s protection and blessing upon our son. Only God could take care of him now. We couldn’t. We would be living on opposite sides of the globe.
“You don’t have to go upstairs to security with me,” Robert said. In his heart and mind, he was saying what we were all thinking . . .
“Let’s just get this painful moment over.”
We went upstairs to the security door with him anyway, walking with him as far as we could go. We hugged him and expressed our deep love to him. Then, we watched him move quickly through the doors, looking back twice to wave to us again.
Watching him enter the “international zone” was like seeing a “fish out of water” return to “water.” He was going back to the comfort of his “international home.”
Out of Sight
He then disappeared out of sight—disappeared to the other side of the world.
No, it doesn’t get easier. Practice and repetition don’t make this one easier. Our kids being older doesn’t make it any easier to let them go.
We’ve been here before. We’ve done this before . . . so many times already . . . and so many more times ahead.
In two weeks, we will return to the same international airport in Washington DC to say the dreaded goodbye to another son, Tim, as he returns to study in Germany.
No, it just doesn’t get any easier.
Cross-Cultural Kids: The Joys and Challenges
We know both joys and challenges in raising adult “Third-Culture Kids” who live in faraway lands. In Third Culture Kids: Growing Up Among Worlds, David Polluck and Ruth Van Reken describe a “Third Culture Kid” as “a person who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside their parents’ culture. The third culture kid builds relationships to all the cultures, while not having full ownership in any.” (TCK World)
Our kids know many cultures and speak many languages. They easily adjust to new situations and naturally reach out to those who are different than themselves. Our children are world travelers, each of them boarding a plane for the first time as a newborn. They are independent, strong, and courageous. We are proud parents of our kids who can “fly on their own” (literally speaking) to the other side of the world—to their “home.”
The downside is that we are separated by oceans and continents.
Things We Miss
We would love to watch Robert play soccer in his academy in England. Seeing some occasional youtube footage on our living room screen just isn’t the same.
We would love to sit down over coffee and debate deep philosophical and political issues with Tim. We all love those kinds of stimulating conversations. Chatting from time to time on Messenger or through a screen on FaceTime just isn’t the same.
I talk to other parents here in Pennsylvania whose sons attend college just a few hours away. They often come home for the weekends . . . or at least for the holidays and school breaks.
We, on the other hand, don’t know when or where we will see our sons again, but we hope and pray that we will make it to Germany for Tim’s college graduation in June.
Releasing our cross-cultural kids to the other side of the world—no, it just doesn’t get any easier. However, seeing our kids thrive, seeing them live out their dreams and do what they long to do—even if on the other side of the world—makes it all worth it. It makes this torn “Mama’s heart” happy!
For now, all we can do is follow their flights on “Flight Stats” from our side of the Atlantic to theirs. They are almost “home”—to their “international home” on the opposite side of the world from Mom and Dad.
—The Cultural Story-Weaver
For Further Reading:
“Third Culture Kids: Citizens of Everywhere and Nowhere.” (BBC)
Let’s Weave Cultures!
Have you ever had to release a loved one to the other side of the world? Have you ever experienced this type of dreaded, cross-cultural goodbye?
We invite you to tell us your own cultural stories and global adventures . . . as you engage with the world, breaking down barriers, building bridges, and “weaving cultures”! Write about them in the comment box below.
I had to say goodbye to both my girls when they flew
International and yes…it rips a piece of your heart out and they take it with them. I would continually pray until I received the long awaited phone call to hear their voice that they made it safely. They would be full of excitement and ramble on about the flight and all they experienced all the way. When I hung up..I always knew it was worth it and so happy they had the opportunity to explore the world and experience different cultures . Their travels have made them more diverse and helps them embrace different cultures . Thank you for your blog.
Thank you for sharing your story and for reminding us that the “dreadful goodbyes” are so worth it! Imagine all that our kids would miss out on if we held them back and didn’t “release” them to go?!
I experience the same feelings you articulate so well. If I can manage not to tear up when we say goodbye to our son, now studying in Scotland, then I burst into tears once my husband and I are back in our car! It’s like ripping that emotional bandage off again with each goodbye. Like you, though, I’m thankful that at 20 he’s already comfortable traveling solo across continents and that he loves experiencing new cultures. I’m thrilled that he’s growing and loving the life he’s choosing. Thank you for your blog!
Oh, I know that feeling! I, too, try to be strong and hold it together at the moment of “goodbye,” but as soon as I seem them disappear . . . I turn around and the tears flood my eyes. Thanks for sharing your story!