How to survive a loved one’s birthday when you are on the other side of the world

One of the hardest things about moving to another country, is missing out on family birthdays – especially when you are part of a close family who celebrate birthdays together. Nothing prepares you for the sadness that enfolds you when you realise someone you love is going to celebrate a birthday soon, and you will not be there to join in the fesitivities. Family birthdays are sometimes taken for granted… to the point where someone might even feel annoyed at the “disruption” to their schedule…

I LOVE family birthdays. Absolutely LOVE them. A birthday is the ONE day of the year, when you are allowed to let go and be spoiled a bit. The one day of the year, that really is your day – well at least a reminder of the day that you joined the human race. Being an introvert, I am not one for big bashes and surprise parties, but I love spending time with the people I love. For me, there is no greater gift than spending time with people who value me and see me for who I am.

And if you are wondering about the Five Love Languages, yes, mine is quality time. So that is what I want. Quality time with the people that matter. Time to eat, drink and talk, and just be present. And time to take in that specific moment in time, and perhaps pause it in your minds eye to try and remember it for what it is, so that you can replay it when you need it on lonely days. Time to appreciate. Time to listen. Time to learn about other people’s dreams, hopes and aspirations or the things that frustrate them and get them down. Time to connect.

Of course, spending quality time with someone requires that you undertake an enjoyable activity together, and give your undivided attention to the other person; which is becoming increasingly difficult in a time where we are always online and always “connected” and distracted, without realising that our real connections are slipping away. There is nothing like being pulled from your comfort zone and the things you took for granted, to make you realise instantly what you gave up and how much it enriched your life. And then you realise that perhaps those little things – birthdays spent with family, Sunday afternoon lunches, talking over the phone or going out for dinner or coffee with a friend – those where the things that actually made your life meaningful, and with those things now inaccessible, it is rather difficult to find alternative ways to meaning.

So how do you survive when someone back home is celebrating a birthday and you can’t be there? You order a gift online. You have it delivered at just the right time – which is tricky with a 10-hour time difference. You send well wishes via whatsapp or Facebook and you hope they will send some photos of what they are up to on the day. You wonder what they are doing and what they are talking about and if they even notice your absence.

And then you cry. You cry until there are no tears left to cry. And then you replay those moments you recorded in your mind of past events. You mentally replay every birthday, every special occasion. You remember where you were, what you ate, who you spoke to and how you felt. And all those memories merge into one giant melting pot of smiles and laughter and the aroma of good food and the comfort of good conversation and warm hugs. And you start planning your visit home. You promise yourself that you will take in every second of every day of your visit, so that you have new memories to replay in times of sadness…

I have “survived” 6 birthdays back home already. And it is only February. This is going to be a tough year. And of course I don’t even want to think of the birthdays we will be “celebrating” here – cut off both in physicality and time from those we love and not being able to share it with anyone. The short answer is, you don’t survive it. You bear it and you celebrate the person in their absence by reminding yourself why you love them, why they matter and how they have enriched your life and then you send them messages telling them how much they mean to you…

 

“Take the way home that leads back to Escombe Street.
Across the water and home through Germiston.
Past the shadow that fall down whenever we meet.
Pretty soon now, you won’t come around…

If you remember, don’t hide it whenever we meet…”

– Die Breyties, Escombe Street