When ‘living the dream’ goes pear-shaped

Pear-shaped is exactly how it feels, some days.  A sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.  A sadness that won’t be pushed away.  No matter how many times I might repeat ‘get a grip!’  Get a grip!  It’s 18 months since we sold our UK home and renounced life in England, in pursuit of ‘the dream‘.  And yes, we found it.  A world of sunlight and smiling faces.  But often now, I wonder, at what cost?

Of course, we discussed the ‘what ifs’ before we made the move.  What if we’re seriously ill over there, or worse, the youngsters are?  Easily dismissed!  Portugal has a health care system.  Flights are cheap and easy.  Stop right there.  You can see the flaw in the argument now, can’t you?  Why didn’t we?  Hindsight, such a wonderful thing.  It does no good to say, as both children have, ‘but you’re safer there’.  It may well be true.  There is far less density of population here, and steps were taken in good time to help prevent the spread of infection.  But I didn’t come here for safety.  Far from it!  And I definitely didn’t come here to isolate myself from my family.  The dream included happy times shared with them, in this lovely place.  Was I greedy?  Wanting too much?  You can’t have it all, never was truer.

The clock ticks on and there is no real comfort in sight.  Flights can be, have been, booked, but there is no certainty that they will operate.  And what of the quarantine measures that may be applied?  Which employer is going to say ‘go, have a good time, and take an extra 2 weeks when you come back to self isolate’?  If there is still a job available.

The pragmatic view.  All things must pass?  But in the meantime I feel like I have betrayed my children.  Deliberately distanced myself when help, both physical and emotional, might be needed.  Hoodwinked, both them and me.  Overreacting?  Maybe so, but that expression ‘a heavy heart’- I know just how it feels.  Gradually things are starting to normalise here, and I can’t deny spontaneous joy at walking on beaches again, and meeting with friends.  But the future feels precarious, in a way it never did, ‘before’.

162 comments

  1. I’m not exactly sure what to say about this post Jo that would be helpful, but I just wanted to say that I can relate to the feelings you are talking about here. I’m sorry you are feeling bad.
    I also do like that photo.
    Cheers, Amy

    Like

  2. Sorry to hear of your struggles. That old saying about the ‘best laid plans’ comes to mind. So many other sayings come to mind, but they all seem a little trite at the moment. It seems that all we can do is to suck it up and hope for the best that someday seeing friends and loved will again become possible.
    Wishing you all the best in these trying times.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I have my long suffering husband, like a parrot on my shoulder, saying ‘Get a grip! get a grip!’ A change from ‘Polly wants a cracker’? Nothing to do, Gunta, but get on with it, smile if you can, and be grateful. Thank you! 🙂 🙂

      Like

  3. Take as many walks as you can. I feel so sad with you. Who would have ever thought we would go through something like this. Enjoy the beautiful scenery and look forward to being with your children soon. I booked a flight for August. And that in itself perked me up

    Liked by 1 person

      1. The good news is that the trials for a vaccine are going well and summer should weaken the bug. Never thought I’d see this. I’ve been away from people for weeks that I get anxious when o do go out. It’s crazy

        Like

  4. Even though the responses are right and you couldn’t have known and you know that yourself, it’s fine air out those feelings! We moved to Arizona to be near my parents and then didn’t see them for the first weeks. Now we see the sometimes but no hugs or anything. It’s difficult to really know what the actual dangers are and what safety measure to take and which really work, so it can really be overwhelming. We have a daughter on either coast (and a son-in-law on the west coast with one daughter) and right now we don’t want them to fly to visit us or us to fly to visit them. But I do plan to drive to Wyoming this summer. The drive and staying overnight somewhere will be the most “dangerous” part because there are so few people in Wyoming, I’ll be up in the mountains, and there won’t be that many people around.

    If you see my post tomorrow, I’m admitting I’ve been bored. Yes, we’re close to my parents and that’s good and moving was my idea and yes, it was what we should have done. Yes, my husband is riding his bike a lot more, which was a secondary reason for me. But the walks for me have been not very exciting after the park back in Illinois. I’ve started going a bit farther (driving 15 minutes to get there) to walk in a place that ministers to my soul and that will help. And someday, hopefully not too too far away, life will settle back into, if not exactly the way it was, something close to it. After all, I’ve missed my yearly trip to France and really, really want to go next year.

    Much love to you, my dear!

    janet

    Like

    1. Thanks, Janet! I could ‘feel’ you typing this as I logged off last night. I saw the ‘like’ and waited a few minutes, but it’s been such an emotional process responding to this flow of warmth that happens on here whenever you express distress. It’s a huge reason why we blog, isn’t it? An emotional safety net. It means we can express our doubts and fears, however foolish, however irrational, and know that the tide of response will not criticise or castigate. It’s always on your side, and people are immensely kind. We go forward together, with hope and love. It’s all we can do. And smile, together. 🙂 🙂 My thanks to you for sharing this with me.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. This pandemic has totally blindsided us all and it’s so difficult not to wonder “what if”, but I think that those of us who feel even a small amount of safety or comfort in our own situation are also burdening ourselves with huge and perhaps unbearable anxiety and guilt about our families.

    Jude is right; at this time even being a short distance apart means separation, and we have to find ways to accept these things that we can’t change (not something this control freak ever expected to say).

    The thing that I am most grateful for is the technology that lets me communicate with my mum and brothers. Even half a century ago when my parents emigrated to NZ, letters were the main source of contact — the expensive, crackly phone call at Christmas was more frustrating than comforting. I talked for an hour this morning with my mum and feel so much better because I’ve heard her voice. I know it’s not the same — especially if you’re putting on your happy face for the youngsters — but it’s what we have, and it’s not forever.

    Sending hugs.

    Like

    1. The thing is, Su, that I have it so much easier here than my youngsters, and not through any merit of my own. Guilt, as you say. I just hope and pray that the UK can recover from this. And I don’t just mean the virus! Thanks, as always , for your perspective and kind thoughts. You must have just earned another hug from a distance 🙂 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I do understand that Jo. I’m struggling with the fact that NZ has almost no active cases of the virus, 21 deaths in total, and we’re doing pretty well considering. Life for my mother and brothers in the UK is very different and much harder — and I worry about not only their health, but their futures too — especially my nieces and nephews. We decided to move back to NZ 20 years ago, but could so easily have stayed in England as many of our friends (and family members) did. I’ve lost so much sleep over those years wondering if we made the right decision, and I still don’t know. I guess I never will.
        Sending hugs right back at you.

        Like

      2. The wonder of our blogging world, Su! The freedom to express all our doubts and fears, and know that we are supported and loved right through the process, again and again! Thank you! 🙂 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

  6. If nothing else, this whole kerfuffle has made us appreciate everything we have and everyone in our lives, both near and far. Hang in there Jo. Easy for me to say as I am not feeling your pain, but we are closer to the end than the start of this new way of living. Melx

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Hi RJo – I am just getting back around to reading blogs after a bit of a break. Your heartfelt thoughts are common ones, as you can see in the many commiserations. One reason I had stopped blogging was that we decided to up-and-move also, and you know how wrenching that entire experience its. We left our central California beach town the day before California went on lock-down, and are now in Olympia, Wa., where our son has lived for a year. I keep blaming all my weird thoughts on this epidemic, and crediting all my better thoughts on our move. I think everyone in the world is un-settled, so your feelings are understandable. Maybe there’s comfort in knowing that you are riding this wave with us all. I wish you a peaceful mind and a good outcome for your kids 🙂 In any case, it’s wonderful to read your stuff again! Take care – Susan

    Like

    1. My heart flipped when I saw your name in the Likes, and I checked back for a post from you. Thanks for stopping to talk. I can’t picture where you are now. Had you pinpointed at Morro Bay. Will give my head a shake 🙂 🙂 Take care, hon!

      Liked by 1 person

  8. i share the pain, Jo. our daughter is in the west coast and we don’t know when we can all be together again. we hold on to our faith trusting to the omnipotent. take care and sending you hugs and prayers. 💗💗💗

    Like

  9. I think your other followers have said it all. Doesn’t matter where you live we cannot meet up with friends or family whether they live in the next town or another country and I won’t be getting on a plane any time soon, even though I am desperate to see my grandsons in Brisbane. I can’t even drive to Surrey as that is not an ‘essential’ journey and I know my support there would be welcomed. As I see it we have to accept that there are things we cannot change – this virus – and accept that it can be deadly so staying apart for as long as it takes is a small price to pay for staying alive. You made the choice that was best for you at the time and hindsight is a wonderful thing. Enjoy the life you have in Portugal and if in years to come you decide that you really do want to be closer to your family then I’m sure you’ll make the right choice then. Life is a journey and our paths twist and turn in ways we never expect, we just have to shrug our shoulders and get on with it. Make the best of every day. 🤗

    Like

    1. And mostly I do, Jude. But I’ve documented ‘the journey’ on here and at the 18 months stage this is how it is. Not all day or every day, by any means, but I needed to write it down. Self indulgent, if you like. And I’ve had some heart warming responses, reaffirming that everyone has their own issues with this, some of them harder than mine. In some ways that helps. I don’t think my youngsters would be happy reading this, but then they don’t read the blog, and I always pin on the idiot grin for them. That’s the least I can do.

      Like

      1. I think it’s good to be honest about your feelings, even with your youngsters, after all they are not kids any more. As you know the path we travel has many bumps, this crisis is just one more. We may have to live with it, so life may never look the same again. But humans are resilient, we’ll find a way. 😘

        Liked by 1 person

  10. Pear-shaped is right. Nothing is as we thought it would be. I hope for you that you’ll get to see your kids soon. It won’t last forever, but I get how hard it is for you right now 😦 . Hang in there. Be well.
    Alison

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Once you move away from your home country and family you are going to question your decision once in a while, especially during the hard times. I’ve been living in Ireland for the past 20 years and absolutely love it. Don’t be so hard on yourself and enjoy life in Portugal

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s hard not to enjoy life here, Aiva. I just wish things were more prosperous in the UK. My struggles are behind me, aside from health over which I have little control. Not so easy for young people now. 🤔💕

      Liked by 1 person

  12. Tough decision, Jo, coming at a most difficult time. If you can weather this, you’re going to be just fine. Keep pushing forward, one day at a time.
    Your blogging buddies are out here for you.

    Like

  13. Try to keep your chin up, Jo, and be as positive as you can. Easier said than done in these restricted times, I know. Keep looking at that light at the end of the tunnel… it’s growing larger and getting brighter every day. Sending you hugs and a smile.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Good to get it all out there. I can see that trying to look ahead doesn’t bring too much comfort just now. Can we hope for a mass sanity transplant.

        Like

  14. I can understand your dilemma Joanne, I moved across the world and sometimes worry about my parents who are getting older, but I do have a sister who lives close to them.
    I have a son and grandchildren who live 15 minutes from me and until last weekend we hadn’t seen each other in 10 weeks either, because I still go out to work and I didn’t want to risk infecting the kids. I missed the grandkids terribly, but it had to be.
    Things will get better Jo and soon you will be able to visit your children in the UK.

    Like

  15. I love these posts where you share your heart and soul, Jo. We can all certainly relate to your dilemma and your second-guessing. None of us had any way of knowing how this pandemic would swoop into our lives and take away all that we hold dear. Taking our freedom is enough of a thing to have taken away, but also it strains our close relationships with family and friends, our ability to just get out and about in the world. I know you want badly to keep your connections with your adult children, as we all do. Right now, Alex is thinking of coming with his girlfriend from Denver to Virginia (mainly because she wants to pick up things she left behind), and of course he wants to visit us. I know it’s probably not safe, but I want to see him and will absolutely want him to visit. Also, I missed celebrating my daughter’s birthday with her and though she’s only two hours away, she doesn’t feel safe leaving her home or visiting either of her families (ours or her dad’s). I’d love to have her just move in with us for the duration, since she’s lost her job, but she has too many friends she maintains tenuous connections with in Richmond.

    Can you drive from Portugal or is it too far with too many border crossings where you might not get through? Sometimes I feel like just breaking down and crying with the uncertainty and powerlessness I feel every day, but I haven’t done that yet. I’ve often felt on the verge. I listened to a podcast where they talked about “Things Fall Apart,” and the only hope I found is to know that even bad things fall apart, and eventually this pandemic will fall apart too. Somehow that made me feel just a tad bit better. Keep the faith, Jo, and know that we’re all in this with you. 🙂

    Like

    1. I don’t know if there is any such thing as safe, Cathy. Or how real the risks are. Here it is becoming easier to believe in safety but we might be fooling ourselves. On the other hand, the press have bred an atmosphere of fear in the UK and that helps no-one. My daughter works closely with the NHS and does not think the situation there will improve before next year and I find that unbelievably depressing. It’s her 50th in February and she doesn’t know if she can plan a trip or not. So many people have celebrated birthdays virtually this year. I guess it’s a blessing that we can. For the moment we are just biding our time. Hugs, sweetheart. I’ve had such lovely responses on here. 🤗💕❤️

      Like

Leave a reply to Tom Cancel reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.