Death While Abroad
When I was young, Christmas dinner was always held in Toronto. My great aunt, my grandmother’s sister, and her husband would host with their five children. Their house was big and festive, adorned with two Christmas trees and filled with holiday spirit. I remember the warmth, love, and comfort of that time, as well as the large number of people gathered: my grandmother, grandfather, great aunt and uncle, their children, my mom, dad, and my brother. Now, there are only a few of us left. My great-aunt passed yesterday at the age of 96; my grandmother is 98 and struggling both physically and mentally as she moves into a retirement home. Our last Christmas dinner together as a whole family was in 1997, right after I got my first ‘real’ job.
I have been living in Asia for almost 23 years. During this time, the bonds between family and friends have become looser. Yes, people pass away, and there are funerals and memorials, which provide an opportunity to reconnect with family, even if it’s under sad circumstances. The last memorial or funeral I attended was in 2019, and I barely knew anyone there. Over the years I’ve spent in Asia, many family members have passed. They meant a lot to me, but time and distance have made the loss feel less impactful than it should.
My family is getting smaller, which is understandable at 52 years old. I often look at social media to see friends from home and notice closer connections among them, which causes some regret about being away. This feeling of regret is something I’ve never felt since I moved away. I’ve had amazing experiences here: exploring, learning, and growing as a person. But the cost of this has been a lack of connection with my extended family—the aunts, uncles, cousins, and others who formed my family and to whom I was once close. It has made me more distant to former secondary school, university and workmates. It is hard to maintain a relationship with many kilometers between us. I try, as best as I can, and there is always a feeling it not being enough. It hurts when a death happens and fades as time goes on.
The thought of those Christmas dinners has only come up with the death of my Great Aunt. The last time we were all in that house for Christmas was in 1997. I don’t think the thought has come up since then.