Hello from this side of the Atlantic Ocean. We’ve been back on Canadian soil for a month, and early on we were greeted by –25C temperatures and blizzard warnings. You may cringe, thinking “that’s so cold!” and “that’s too much snow!”, and you’d be right on both counts, but unlike most people, I like the cold and the snow. In a way, the freezing temperatures and accumulation forecasts were reassuring: this is Canada, after all. And also, this suits my mood.
What is my mood, exactly? It’s hard to say. People have been asking how I feel now that I’m home, and all I can muster is, “I don’t know. It’s nice to be home, but I miss Berlin.” Pretty non-descriptive, right? The thing is, I’m not sure how I feel yet. I feel caught between two places, both literally and emotionally. I love our home in Canada, I missed my family and friends, but I also feel off-balance, as though a piece of me has been left behind. And now, I’m not sure how to function in the same way. Everything feels different, or maybe I’m different as a result.
When literal expressions fail me, I often turn to metaphor or story. So if you’ll bear with me, here is the comparison I’ve been using to explain how I feel after leaving Berlin and returning to what I’ve been calling, the “strange familiarity” of home.
The Breakup
Let’s say that Berlin is my love-interest. A bit rough around the edges, sure, but kind and warm on the inside. Twenty years ago we met for the first time, and we had a fling. I was 23 years old, freshly graduated from university and backpacking through Europe. I didn’t know any better. I thought there would be other cities (in truth, I dated London and am still in love with Toronto–oh, my poor heart!) But as the years have passed, I haven’t stopped thinking about Berlin.
So last year, I planned a reunion, just to see if those feelings were still there, and it turns out that my fling was a true love connection. We had a beautiful four months together, and then had to face the fact that our lives required us to be separated—we work in different countries! We have obligations!—and so we broke up. It was an amicable parting: we want to be together, but we can’t (doesn’t this make it worse?) And now I’m dealing with the grief of the breakup. Some would call it heartbreak. But then again, aren’t grief and heartbreak closely tied? I wonder if they’re not the same emotion, just labelled differently depending on the circumstances.
(A close friend has since suggested that perhaps this isn’t a breakup but a long-distance relationship. I’m considering it).
It’s clear that my subconscious (unconscious?) mind is trying to sift through it all, too. Nearly every night I dream that I’m packing up our flat, preparing for the flight to Toronto. In some instances, I can’t fit all of our things into the suitcases, and in other instances, I meet people who question why we’re leaving and I don’t know what to say.
For now, I’m sitting in the in-between place. It’s not terribly comfortable, but it’s not unpleasant either. I remind myself that I don’t have to construct meaning out of everything, and that it’s enough to be with these feelings and see what comes.
And also this: I’m so very thankful. When I think about all the beautiful experiences we had, how well we were treated, and how much we learned and grew, my gratitude spills over. Sometimes this looks like welling up, or full-on crying, but most of the time it looks like a short interruption; while I’m in the middle of some mundane task, I’ll pause for a moment, nod, smile, feel it all the way through, and then go back to what I was doing.
And for now, it’s enough.
I hope we never have to break up with Q8 or the apartment next to the Gardner. I’m holding out.
Just think of all the wonderful things Sandra you have enjoyed along your journey with backpacking through Europe at such a young age. How adventurous of you……..quite understandable there is such an allure of mystical areas to be travelled in the countries across the pond. For me it’s the quaintness of cobblestone streets that connect warm stone buildings with the scent of sometime good cooking. The covered bridges spanning over waterways that flow thru the town or country side. It is more prone to walking and bicycling than many congested cars. This opens up conversation between people unknown an opportunity to stop and chat. Perhaps pop into the local coffee shop or pub for your favourite brew and delicious fare. Yes it is so much different from Canada but what an amazing experience you and your whole family have had. Sandra I don’t think you have truly broken up but simply taking a break to come home to see your family and friends . Is there a rule on how many homes you can have , I don’t think so. You were able to make plans to revisit Berlin in the first place maybe there will arise an opportunity to do so again. It might be helpful to ask the rest of your family how they are feeling now that they are back to Canada for they were not on the original backpacking journey with you . The feelings I have when David and I were in Nurnberg are that of enchantment likened to living in a storybook of wondrous stone buildings wrapped through cobblestone hills leading to the Christmas market where many treasures could be found . Our memories take us fondly back to such a wonderful experience our hearts also filled with gratitude for having the blessings to have travelled and enjoyed the wonders of Germany . Sandra I know you will find your way for you always have ❤️.