My Adriatic Adventure: Learning To Let Go
Strolling through my old neighbourhood, Mimico
I spent the month of September in Mississauga, Canada.
I went back to the place I spent most of my life to be with my family. That was the goal.
The rest—the visits with extended family and friends (and some much-needed retail therapy)—while incredibly important and something I thought I would manage more of—quickly became secondary.
You see, I’m having a moment.
The kind of moment that makes me feel like I am in a race against time.
The kind that makes me think about mortality.
The kind that makes me want to hold on for dear life to the people I love.
Yup, that moment.
I did make time to pick up my first pair of optometrist approved reading glasses...not the cheaters you can find in a drug store.
I arrived in Mississauga, Canada and spent most of my time with my immediate family.
Did I do it well? -that is, the time spent with my family.
I don’t know. I did the best I could.
Was I overwhelmed a lot of the time?
Most definitely.
Did I listen to my parents as they shared stories about the past?
Yes. I wanted time to stand still as they told me stories, some for the first time, others I had heard but had forgotten. I tried to memorize their faces as they shared their stories. I thought to myself, I don’t have enough time to take all this in.
Did I watch my nephews—in awe of their curiosity—hoping that life (the education system, friendships, relationships, jobs, etc.) would continue to encourage their curiosity? Did I savour every moment with them, hoping that there would be more wonder and awe in their eyes the next time I saw them, not less?
Yes.
My oldest nephew taking a break between soccer matches
The twins being curious at the ROM (Royal Ontario Museum)
My nephews reading a map while exploring the CNE (Canadian National Exhibition)
Did I spend time with my brothers?
Yes. But not enough.
Some days, did I sit and stare at a wall for what felt like hours, because I was emotionally exhausted?
Yup. That’s something for my next session with my therapist.
Did I get anxious and consider extending my visit because I hadn’t accomplished the things I wanted on this visit?
Yup. Again, this is something for my next session with my therapist.
Did I take a minute to breathe and decide that extending my visit was not the answer?
Yup. My therapist would be proud.
I often talk about my visits to Canada (three since moving to Croatia) as my opportunity to touch the people I love.
While that is such a beautiful way to look at things, there's more to it.
My visits have become a way to hold on to the people I love.
Sure, that also sounds lovely.
But my ‘holding on’ is rooted in fear.
Fear.
That’s a heavy emotion to manage while visiting the people and places that make up more than 90% of your life.
I fear losing my parents.
I fear there isn’t enough time to sit and listen to them tell their stories. Or for me to memorize their faces.
I fear that if I let go and just be in their company - I will miss out on memorizing the moment.
So, during my visits, I expend most of my energy trying so hard to hold on to each moment—afraid that if I let go and move on to the next moment, I will lose the people I love.
Hence emotional exhaustion and staring at a wall for hours.
On my last day in Mississauga, I received sage advice from my brother, Filip.
During the drive to the airport, he said something that stayed with me.
He said: don’t come back for this long again; live your life.
He knew what I was trying to hold on to.
I knew what he was trying to tell me.
He was reminding me that life is about letting go.
It has to be.
Something I don't mind holding on to: SanRemo (@sanremobakery) • Instagram photos and videos
I heard my brother’s words, and then I buried them, knowing I would have to revisit them later.
This is later. And this is what I have come up with:
I need to find my version/definition of letting go.
I need to find where letting go doesn’t feel like giving up or forgetting and where letting go can include visits that won’t leave me feeling emotionally exhausted or wishing time would stand still.
And that is for me to figure out.
One visit at a time.
