When the distance is too far

Most of the time I love living in Zambia. I know I’m far away from family, friends and things that are familiar and comfortable, but I love it here. This is where I want to be, and am I okay with the distance. But there are some times when the distance feels too far. When I am very aware that I am living on the other side of the world and my family is not a quick drive away. When I realise that living in a different time zone is frustrating because it means I can’t communicate in real time. Times like when your grandma dies.

This is not the first time a grandparent has died while I have been living out of the country (check out this post), but that doesn’t make it easier.

(My grandma as a young adult)

It’s hard being away from your family – it makes it hard to grieve. Sometimes it doesn’t feel real. I fully expect to go and visit her when I’m next in Australia. But it won’t happen. I wish I was around to give my Dad a hug as he grieves the loss of his mother. But I’m not there. And I won’t be there for a while.

I knew when I moved here there would be sacrifices. I am okay with that. It’s hard, but I know it’s what I signed up for. What I find the most difficult is when my family has to make sacrifices because of where I am. They didn’t sign up for this exactly. They accept it, and I guess part of accepting it means being ready for the sacrifices.

Although I’m far away, my thoughts and love are with them all.

(Grandma with my uncle's dog)

Some memories of my grandma:

- Being spoiled with biscuits and cordial every time we visited.

- Meals of corned beef and peas.

- Her adventuresome spirit - climbing Sydney Harbour bridge when she was at least in her 70s.

- Her love of dogs - our dog Jock always came back a little on the chubby side when he stayed with her while we were away.

(Grandpa and Grandma)