Let’s be completely honest. These posts have made this 3 month adventure look pretty enticing…and it has been exceptional. But here’s a dose of reality. It’s hard “living” in a foreign country and I’m tired.
I’m tired of feeling anxious every time I drive somewhere. I NEVER know where I am going, my stomach muscles are always tight on every trip. Driving on the opposite of the road AND car is a mental work out each and every trip. No relaxing, enjoyable Sunday drives. The older I get, the more exhausting it gets. Knowing what is coming up around the next corner is not a bad thing after all. I will savor it when I get home.
I’m tired of feeling guilty if I want to just sit on the couch and watch tv. I keep thinking about how I should be going somewhere…I should be seeing new things. I feel guilt about wasting time and not making the most of this opportunity. I long to sit in my recliner ALL DAY and binge watch a murder-mystery series.
My feet hurt. No shoe is comfortable walking on cobblestones. No insight here, just a complaint.
I also long to be in a country who can cope with a heatwave via air conditioning. (I know, spoiled-whiney American…whatever…) In the southeast corner of England, since June, temperatures have reached or exceeded record highs daily. I have purchased 7– S-E-V-E-N–fans. They help….a little. Having MS, the heat is doing me in. The cold, wet English weather is a HOAX. Fake news.
The realization that my son is not as excited that I’m here spending time with him as I was, is also a tough one to swallow. Although I have been told by experienced mothers of grown boys not to expect it, I really thought our time together would be just as it was when he was younger…but it’s not. They were right. My fear that he will not return home is becoming a reality. I wish, for totally selfish reasons, that I never pushed the European university idea…but I did and he seems to be happy. I KNOW it wouldn’t be any different if he had gone to college in the states, BUT it would have been in the states. In my mind, that seems like it would have been better…I know my wiser, experienced mother-friends would tell me it wouldn’t make a difference. When they fly away, they fly away. I raised him to be a free thinker, I am proud and happy that he is.
I turn 51 next week and I have booked 3 days for me and my son in Brussels. (He did say he wanted to go…I didn’t force him). We will travel via Eurostar and I have rented a house in the European District. This will be the last hoorah before I come home. On Monday, I will help my son move into the apartment he will be living in for the upcoming school year and then we leave on Tuesday morning for Brussels…I hope I have the energy to enjoy it. I think I’m going to feel 51.
I am ready to go home. My wonderlust has been cured. For now.