Leaving my new home

This adventure in Florida will end in less than ten days now. I can’t believe it has already been a year ago when my wife and I boarded the plane with just four suitcases and two bikes. Looking back I wonder what I was thinking. Literally. It feels like a distant life and I can only vaguely remember what I expected besides the job. It sure wasn’t this.

We had dinner last Sunday with some of our friends here. The first of many this week, saying goodbye to all those we’re going to miss. Free messaging apps to keep in touch have been installed and we started to give away some of our stuff we’re not taking with us. And with that, the reality that we’re actually leaving is starting to sink in. For us going back and for those we leave behind.

Some ask if I leave because of the new president. I usually joke by stating it’s an added bonus, but in reality, there is nothing extra. The closer I get to going home, the more depressed I feel. I made some real friends here, even though I still feel limited by a language barrier sometimes. In reality, it’s not all that different from making friends who have the same speech. You have to learn the intended meaning of each other’s words when you truly want to know someone. It’s a slow path from which I’m about to take a hard turn.

True, familiar faces will be greeting me when I step off the plane. Eagerly waiting to see, touch and hug each other again. It’s a warming prospect and makes these goodbyes a bit easier. But just like me, those faces have changed and although our language is still alike, the true meaning of our words probably needs some tuning again. I don’t think it will be just a simple ‘hit resume’ after a twelve-month pause.