I think I have what is commonly described in literature as a ‘heavy heart’ today. I feel that it is an altogether wrong description as I suspect I have no heart at all right now as there is just a pain where that organ normally beats. No, I am not the victim of some calamity of romantic love, but, like thousands of others I am experiencing the awfulness of having said goodbye to loved ones who were home for Christmas.
My brother left this morning for the trip back to Australia, all thirteen and a half thousand miles of it. Fortunately he is returning to a life that he loves; a good career, friends, a much warmer climate and, by all accounts, a healthier lifestyle. He is also travelling by comfortable jet! Taking all those factors into account one can only marvel at the resilience of our grandparents who waved goodbye to children as they were forced to leave due to hardships. I can’t help but think of mothers who knew their offspring were boarding cold boats to England or America and would then face into weeks of waiting for the first letter home of safe arrival.
My brother has texted or phoned one of us at the completion of every leg and the bush telegraph rapidly relays the messages to us all. Perhaps such immediacy brings even more torture as you are aware of the progression and the distance as the hours tick by. Knowing he had arrived in Cork safely was good given the current road conditions and there was some comfort knowing he was still on Irish soil. Heathrow airport is also familiar and felt relatively close, but the text that announced “Just boarding plane to Bangkok, c ya Nick. X” cut deep and brought back that goodbye moment all over again. The message beeped, caught me unawares and despite standing in a queue in a public place, a big fat tear came without warning and plopped onto the screen of my phone. I felt very silly.
Strange feelings
I have no doubt that thousands of families all over the city, county and country are currently going through the same thing. It is a strange feeling. You are glad that someone is returning to a life they love and you are also somewhat glad to be returning to your own routine as you know that order can be restorative, but yet you don’t have the will to do anything towards reaching that normality. You are trapped in a feckless limbo, emotionally spent and exhausted from it all wondering what to do with yourself. You consider a quick trip to the sales for diversion, but you know that all the twinkling lights and shiny festive packages will just look tired, tacky and cheap post Christmas and those large ugly red stickers slapped on everything will just remind you that it’s all over. The sad state of untidy shelves, rails, racks and torn packages just reflect your inner self; unattractive to say the least. So you dismiss the idea of shopping and with a heavy sigh flick the switch on the kettle again. I ponder if it is better to be the one going or the one left behind. I decide the former is the best as modern day travel requires focus. Security checks, tickets, passports, luggage, returning hire cars; all require proper attention. The people that are left standing waving in driveways have nothing but their breaking hearts and steaming mugs of tea and coffee for company. We are a remarkable nation in that in the face of all sadness the universal response is “Put the kettle on”. Does the tea act as a salve or is it just the action of doing something that distracts us for a moment?
A ‘complete set’ is now rare
For all the difficulty though, having everyone together over the holidays was great. I certainly don’t come from the perfect fairy tale family; we are as dysfunctional as the next. We bicker like the best of them and we’re not perhaps as demonstrative or expressive as modern psychology would have us believe is healthy. As siblings there are also sufficient age gaps that dictate very different social scenes, friends and preferences, yet despite the disparity when we are together there is an easiness that requires no effort. Quite late on Christmas Eve my sister, brother and I found ourselves alone at the table. Parents, partners and children already in bed, it was suddenly just the three of us again for the first time in years; a complete set. Our shared common background created a space where, for that short moment in time, all defences and pretences were gone. With no one else around we weren’t even subconsciously vying for attention; we just ‘were’ and it was lovely. Obviously such moments are heightened and more precious because they are so rare. Plenty of families live in the same town or city and yet don’t get together. We take the proximity for granted, always meaning to get together and, if we do, often involving partners, spouses and children. As adults it is often the case that only funerals provide those shared sibling moments.
World is smaller now
I left for several years in the late Eighties. I remember all those homecomings and subsequent goodbyes. It was before Ryanair and so trips home were expensive and rare. Back then Aer Lingus saw Christmas and Easter as a particularly good time to fleece the Diaspora. The world is different now thank God. Telephones, E-mail, Facebook, Twitter, Skype, webcams and all the other fantastic tools of communication have truly made the world a village and although we forget that in the emotional fog of the goodbye hug, at the flick of a switch we can be close again within a short time. Those of course are rational thoughts and ‘goodbyes’ obliterate all rational thinking. Outside of anaesthesia, there is no way around the pain; you just have to go through it. So while you wait for your heart to return just stick the kettle on and make a mental note to buy shares in Kleenex! Happy New Year.
Hello Nicola,
Your article really touched a raw nerve in me. My dad left Ireland in the 1930’s and returned for a brief time in the 1950s which is when I first saw Ireland being all of six years old. Those five months there haunted me during my growing up years and by 21 I was back for a visit and got to know my family from an adult point of view. The 1980’s saw me back in Ireland again with two children of my own. We settled in the beautiful town of Tramore and spent 9 happy years there. I made some wonderful friends there and also had another baby. While there we often visited my family in Northern Ireland. Eventually South Africa called once again, so here I am in my birthplace, Johannesburg. I feel I have my feet straddled between the two countries and have often heard that both call you – I have had that feeling. I have Irish parents, but was born here the result being that I am neither S.African or Irish – that is what emigration does. My grandmother saw 4 sons leave Ireland two returned, the other two are burried here – I wonder how she felt?
from Colleen Adams (nee Maguire)
HI Nicola,
What you describe has been synomonous with Ireland and our history, more so before the celtic tiger prevailed. My family and I (Wife & 3 young kids) experience the “goodbye” on a yearly basis whe we return to the Middle East, and we count ourselves lucky to be in a position to return each year.
Speasking from the flip side of the coin as the emigrant, if you can find any comfort in the fact that your brother is probably very happy as you describe, all that is missing is his immediate family.
Having lived abroad with my family for nearly 4 years one realises upon their return that Ireland is a place where ones heart will always remain, and undoubtedly will always be home. The unfortunate truth however is that we have rising unemployment and the financial backbone of the country is in turmoil and the cost of living is exhorbitant. As a result it is very difficult to look optimistically at returning home in the near future.
Considering the fact that we have just experienced the greatest economic boom of any nation the previous decade it is unfortunate to think that such a period has passed and neither the Healthcare system, Education nor Infrastructure 9etc etc) is noticably better. As a nation people were led to believe that they were better off than before, this perception was made even more apparent by the fact that there were not restrictions to loans , mortgages etc. The feel good factor was apparent right up to 2009.
Looking back at the primary motive of our decision to emigrate, it was our inability to save even a shred of money, that was with my wife an I working. We had succumbed to the nice car, house, remortgage etc, essentially living beyond our means. Now thankfully we have a good standard of living and more importantly the stresses associated with financial commitments arent apparent.
Hopefullly you can find some happiness in the fact that he is returning to a life that is not achievable in Ireland at present, hopefully in the not to distant future he will be able to find the same back home. Happy 2010 to you and all your readers.
What lovely letters to read.
Yes I too can identify with all the above re leaving Ireland. but I was in the lucky position to leave in the 60s because I had ”the wander lust”not because I was looking for work. I had no bother getting a job at home or abroad as I was a trained nurse, Trained in Ireland.
Myself & a friend just decided to go to London for ”the craic”& had no intention of staying too long..but the inevitable happened…..First we fell in love with London…Great wonderful city. We always came back to Ireland for Christmas & the summer in Tramore for the races. As like the above, I was always heartbroken saying Farewell to my Mam family & friends, so much so that I used to pretend to her that the train/flight or boat went earlier than it actually did so as not have to say my goodbyes in the morning when she was asleep.!!
But time changes all that. I fell in love with an Englishman, married him & settled down in Lancashire with a family of my own. I still returned home to Tramore as often as I could with my husband & Children,…More frequently now as I am retired & my dear Mother is getting older. I still adore Tramore, there is nothing as beautiful as the strand on a quite peaceful morning, or a walk along Cliff road. The scenery is second to none.
I have noticed though that the cost of living is very high over there. I am amazed at the Health service too…Having to pay for everything. We take the NHS for granted here in UK. I think it is so much cheaper to live in Uk than Ireland
Still I have a real soft spot for my home town & always will…In 40 years I haven’t lost my accent!.
When I am looking out of the aircraft window leaving Tramore I look over my beautiful town , Church spires and all….& a few little tears always defeat me.
Happy New Year to you all.
Vera Dawber.