Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.
Yours truly, sheepishly shrugging while simultaneously cringing at how pathetic this looks.
When last I posted several weeks agesΒ ago, I dropped the bombshell we were moving back to the US this summer. That news was indeed incendiary on a personal basis as we had fully expected to stay another year, possibly two, in the Netherlands.
At the time I had a list of nine – count ’em, nine – relevant post topics I fully intended to crank out in the ensuing weeks before the movers arrived and I’d be forced to invoke radio silence for a while. Because that’s what tends to happen to expats/cross-culturals when in transition: we fall off the face of the earth.
Or at least it seems that way. But best laid plans go awry, and so on. I’d been humming along at a furious pace, trying to juggle move prep with finishing the 101 tedious little things necessary to get a book published, with an editor, publisher and layout designer practically pulling their hair out.
Okay, there may be a bald patch or two with my name on them, and for that I am truly sorry.
I was keeping up with packing lists and the household inventory needed by the Dutch moving company, and answering questions posed by the American company that would help our goods clear customs and be delivered later in the summer. Stateside school applications for Daughter were duly submitted and awaiting decisions.
I’d lined up temporary housing for when the furniture, clothing and assorted accumulations of family life would begin being packed up, and enlisted help for the notoriously exacting scrub down required by Dutch landlords which would commence the moment the truck hauling the shipping container pulled away from the curb and not cease until the keys were returned to their rightful owner.
We worked out the private sale of our car to a citizen of another European Union country, graciously arranged by the dealer from whom we’d originally purchased it. He even placed phone calls to the Ministry of Taxation to ensure we were fully compliant with Dutch sales law and then turned around and explained the lengthy and convoluted process to the administrative person at Husband’s international organization.
I ran errands, made travel arrangements and pet health paperwork appointments, and ferried family members, animals and inanimate objects hither and yon for a variety of reasons. We consulted spreadsheets and added items to already full ‘to do’ lists faster than we could cross out the completed ones. We tackled closets and dressers, tossing and donating and giving away, doing our best to make all that remained truly ‘shipment worthy’.
But in the end, something had to give. The tsunami of things left to do threatened to overwhelm the remaining days which ticked down to mere hours. There were also the protracted negotiations with our landlord over what constituted normal wear and tear for an average family living in a residence four years, and what each party thought was a reasonable amount of our security deposit, causing great consternation and grinding down our will to live: we were thinking in percentages and he was thinking all that and then some, the equivalent of some countries’ gross national product.
Not surprisingly, blogging and interaction on social media fell by the wayside. By the time things were settled in the Netherlands, it was time to head back to the US and two trips to Florida to be with my parents as my father entered his last days. There is much I don’t recall of that period, and it’s probably just as well. I liken it to being subsumed by a black hole, and whether my memory returns in part or in its entirety remains to be seen.
This coincided with and was followed by a period of protracted lack of internet connectivity, made all the longer by a cable company which insisted on operating as if in a failed state rather than a first world country. The household goods arrived a week ago, furniture has been arranged and the boxes have been emptied, although whether everything has been put away I refuse to comment.
At long last I’m beginning to surface, coming up for air in a new stage in a new place in a country and culture which seem familiar yet I don’t always recognize. I’m reminded on a daily basis that I’m not in the Netherlands anymore. Some days it hurts less than others. I’m getting better, if you overlook the time I burst into tears over yogurt at breakfast a month ago when I heard the guttural lilt ofΒ Nederlands spoken by a tourist in the hotel dining room.
Every day we exchange looks of satisfaction as we remember why we love it here so. The book is published, and I’m slowly easing back into catching up on social media. There are life changes and exciting plans underway, and new adventures to be embraced if we can just survive that d@mn ‘to do’ list. Funny how it managed to follow us across the pond…
Welcome back…I kept your spot warm π
Thank you, you’re such a dear!
OMG the book is PUBLISHED? How did I miss that? Do you have a Kindle/e-book version yet (can’t find one on Amazon.com). And did you know it’s not available on Amazon.ca? π
You didn’t miss anything, Judy, and yes, it’s on Amazon.ca! http://www.amazon.ca/s/ref=nb_sb_noss/182-2517561-7285467?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=The%20Emotionally%20Resilient%20Expat While it was officially published 1 July, with the NL-to-US move, my father’s situation and myriad technical details to consider, I chose to defer active promotion. There is a Kindle version, with plans to expand to other e-book platforms.
With all that was going on (for my editor, publisher and layout designer, not only me), it became clear we needed to go with a very relaxed roll-out instead of a big, synchronized launch. And don’t worry, Judy, it’s on Amazon.ca in both paperback and Kindle.
I’m glad you’re back and waiting to read all your upcoming re-entry posts. BTW, bursting into tears at odd moments is par for the course.
Thanks Maria. With so much to do over the past few months, there hasn’t been much time to process, think, or sometimes even feel. So you’ll be exploring this new emotional terrain right along with me π
What a whirlwind! I’m sure you had to remind yourself to take your own advice at least hourly! I’m glad the dust has cleared somewhat… it’s good to have you back in the blogosphere! Can’t wait to get my hands on your book!
Dusting out the cobwebs indeed! Glad to be back, it’s been so long. Thanks Anne.
Really pleased that you’ve emerged from the black hole and can see blue skies once more. Onwards and upwards!
I still need to get through my remarks at the memorial service, Jack, but even that seems more of a privilege than anything else.
Heading to a darkened room… amazed you’re still standing!
I’ve had a strong role model in you, my dear π
Well done for getting through such a challenging period. Good luck settling in!
Thank you – it’s all a bit overwhelming yet sometimes life just makes you take a deep breath and keep going.
Linda – good to hear from you again and congrats on the publication of THE book, just downloaded the kindle version, can’t wait to get started! Sorry to hear about your Father, so much to have had to cope with in such a short space of time…I’m truly impressed to see you back online, hope the unpacking and settling in goes well.
So much going on, I’m not always sure if I’m coming or going, Louise. Thank you for your unfailing support π
Hello again! Good to see you back online and raring to go. Blog title to change to ‘adventures in repat land’? π Looking forward to reading the new book…
Ha, decided not to change the blog title as it will still cover expat and repat adventures. Plus we’re always keeping an eye open for future expat possibilities π
I’ve been waiting patiently. Glad to hear you’re coming out the other end.
Your crying at breakfast in the hotel reminded me of my meltdown in Walmart (my first time in that strange new world), in the pasta aisle if I recall correctly. Poor K wasn’t sure what to make of it! Now we can identify ‘expat-emotion-excess’ a mile off.
At least you have your book to turn to for a quick reminder in times of stress, and the mother of all confidence boosts. Well done on every front – you, and those who love you, have much to feel quietly proud of.
Why thank you, Aisha, for your kind, uplifting words. I managed to hide my tears at the ill-fated breakfast, and haven’t burst into tears since. But I won’t promise anything as I know there are many more ups and downs to navigate.
Wow, Ive missed alot, well done on climbing the mountain, i remember what it was like 4 years ago
Dank je wel, Roz. I find I have the most difficulty with ‘when’ questions – it’s still such a blur, it takes me awhile to remember.
So great to read one of your excellent posts again Linda! Totally understand social media and blogging had to be parked for a while. Life happens. It is what it is. Been thinking of you!
As have I, of you, Carrie! Missing you, Nederland and many aspects of our life over there, yet also excited by the opportunities (and challenges) presented here. Thanks for your support. Can’t wait to hear more about your changing priorities.
Well done Linda! I am impressed; and, at the same time, so sorry about your Dad. What an amazing time for you. Just bought the book, very much looking forward to reading it. Good luck with everything!
Thank you so much, Katia, I appreciate your support, flattered and humbled you bought the book. So much to write about, yet less time to do so as there’s still much to do. It never changes, does it?!
Linda, this morning I was thinking about you and googled your name only to find that (a) you are an accomplished author and (b) you have been in the Netherlands for the last several years. How exciting! Anyway, I hope you are well and that your transition back to the US has been smooth (or at least as smooth as possible). Best, Stephanie
I am so glad to hear from you, Stephanie, I’ve been thinking about you, too. I wasn’t going to write about September 11th today, but your email has triggered so many memories – good ones among the bad and sad of that day – I’ve changed my mind. I’ll email later this week, can’t wait to catch up with you.