Living overseas, you get used saying goodbye. A lot. Over the last few years living overseas, we have had to say regular goodbyes to friends who are moving on to new assignments or heading home. These are people who we have connected with in a unique way, done life together with in a foreign land and built deep relationships as we grapple with the complexities of living overseas. They are people who we have developed life long friendships with because of the unique experiences we shared together. Then it is your turn! You are the one heading to pastures new. You have to say goodbye to professional colleagues who have become dear friends, you have to say farewell to a range of people who have become your friends for a period of time who, in all likelihood, you will never see again and you have to let go of the projects, places and other things to which you have become strangely but reassuringly attached. Saying goodbye to Kenya in the words of one of my children was the hardest things they had ever had to do.

Then there is another series of goodbyes. Two months homeland furlough might seem like a long time but when you are whizzing around, it is not. It is a series of amazing experiences follow by a tearful goodbye. Goodbye to people with whom we have a shared history, people who we have grown up with and journeyed with at various key points in our lives. Friends and family who’s house we can pitch up in and feel instantly at home, people who know us better than anyone else. Whizzing around means a series of happy hellos and grief filled goodbyes.
We tried to make the most of time back home this summer. We have had an absolute blast and made some really special memories with the kids which we will never forget. A desert BBQ in Dubai, revisiting my old university in Stirling, a lovely day spent in a unique hotel in Edinburgh, Neve’s birthday and JS celebrations, Chinese meals in Chelmsford, a beautiful week in a remote part of Denmark, adventures in Blair Atholl and Elgin, river swimming and rock jumping at Killicrankie Pass, cycling round the Isle of Cumbrae, climbing Wallace Monument (twice), a tour of St. Mirren’s stadium, London, Legoland and Lord’s, coffees and cakes, swimming in the sea in the South Coast of England, visiting the old haunts of my parents and reliving childhood memories with my sister. Just some of the highlights from a fun-filled furlough time.

Most of all, the holiday for us is remembered not for the places we have visited but for the people we have spent it with. We have shared some special times with friends and family in our passport countries or other home as we refer to it. We saw all our close family members, nieces, nephews and our godchildren. We spent time with close friends who we have not seen for a long time. This time we also had to schedule time for our kids with whom they have developed a deep connection with during their time in Kenya. (Fortunately, we get on really well with their parents and they have become family friends.) It is a complete cliché but it was so nice to see them just pick up these special friendship from where they left them. We have a lot to be thankful for and every single day we remain grateful!
But at the end of each adventure, inevitably comes the time of saying goodbye to those who mean the world to us. Goodbye means that once again we are leaving the everyday lives of our friends. It means our precious conversations, howls of laughter and favourite meals together will be replaced by emails, scheduled Facetime calls, and WhatsApp group messages. It means that once again we’ll miss being present for anniversaries, special birthdays and supporting friends in their times of grief. It means we’ll slip out of people’s minds as they understandably get on with their lives. Goodbye means that, to a certain extent, we’ll be replaced by others who are nearer and on hand. Goodbye means we really miss our friends and family, alot.
So this year, the goodbyes came with lots of happy memories but they also came with guilt and even a hint of grief. Goodbyes came with a sense of joy that my children have reconnected with their friends and cousins in the UK and Denmark but a niggling concern sometimes they disconnect too easily because we say goodbye so often. The goodbyes meant that we left behind the familiar but looked forward to laying down our suitcases and sleeping in our own beds. Goodbyes meant we edged closer to a return to beautiful but slightly chaotic Bangladesh where we would rejoice in seeing our good friends and colleagues in our adopted country (‘our other home’). Our goodbyes have meant something beyond the words but at the same time come with an overwhelming sense of confusion.
Then we have to remind ourselves that ultimately, throughout our lives the goodbyes have usually meant remaining obedient to promises made. They have meant being faithful and that this job is not yet finished. Goodbye means there is still much to do and this time is no different whatsoever!

