When I hear the word "repatriate" my mind translates to THE Patriots and I automatically picture Jim's favorite football team or the old soldiers in the heavy blue wool uniforms. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to relate 'that' word to moving back home. Repatriate? Hmmm....maybe that is what is causing my odd reaction to our arriving back in the US. If it were only that simple!
I have read so much about repatriating. I have read books and articles and attended lectures all in preparation for this major event. I have prepared myself and my children for the emotional roller coaster that we were about to board. I have told them we would experience the same feelings as when we first became expats. We would be excited, go through the "honeymoon" stage where every shopping trip, grocery store visit, and drive down the street is just wonderful. We would then need to be prepared for the difficult adjustment of blending in with our 'old' friends, our new friends, and the return to a home town situation that is the same, but very different. We were prepared....we were ready...bring it on.
As the time to move back to the US drew closer, I would dream of our arrival back at Intercontinental Airport in Houston. I imagined getting off of the plane, jumping into each others' arms and crying with the tears of extreme happiness and excitement. In the final weeks of our Dubai assignment, everytime I heard the song "Wave Your Flag" I would cry. Oh, how I missed our flag and how I could not wait to see it hung so proudly everywhere you looked. So much joy was just around the corner.
As we began our "final descent into Houston", I did begin to cry. I was not crying those tears of joy and excitement though. The tears were of sadness of what I had left behind in my "expat" life. I immediately missed Dubai, our incredible school, and the wonderful friends I had made over the past two years. Those friends were our family for the past two years. I already missed them. When we entered the airport, there were not flags everywhere, just people. People in regular clothes, people who looked like us; the sea of women in black and men in white was gone. Instead of feeling overwhelming happiness, I felt out of place, a little confused. I just felt like maybe I didn't belong. I was now looking at Houston through critical eyes. The billboards, the one little mall in town, and the lack of shine and sparkle....they were all gone. What in the world was happening to me? Why wasn't I bubbling with pride over being home? I still just don't get it. The books SAID I would be excited. They SAID I would feel overwhelming happiness...before the sadness. They said this and that and I believed them!
The past two weeks have been filled with car shopping, phone shopping, and sending Sarah off to camp. The weeks have also been filled with the reality that I have an aging mother who needs a lot of care. It has been busy. It has been overwhelming. It has been reality. Just saying that outloud makes me reflect on the past four years and what a dream they have been. For four years we have traveled the world, met people from everywhere, and experienced things I never even dreamed of. We truly have lived in a dream world. We were not living a true reality.
Being an expat made us special, made us different. It gave you an opening line with everyone you meet. When people asked you where you live, how cool to say "Dubai". WOW...impressive. Our summers were spent shopping for the items we missed, the clothes we couldn't find (at reasonable prices), and reconnecting and sharing stories with our friends and family. Then before you knew it, off we would go, back to dreamland. Back to the place where you miss home, miss conveniences, but are feeling such excitement over the experiences before you. This is not the repatriation I was promised! This is not the feeling I expected, prepared for, and anticipated.
All of that being said, we are all fine. We are all adjusting. The kids have reconnected with their old friends, already have made new friends, and seem to have found their way rather quickly. They are really happy. I know there is still a lot ahead for us to navigate. Kevin's departure to Texas Tech, Sarah and Brian both going to a new High School, Jim's great reduction in travel and his being around more, and my new role as a caregiver for my mom.
It is our new life. It is our old-new life. Our expat life is over. That life is something few people we meet now will ever know about, will ever ask about, or ever be interested in hearing about. I am OK with that..really. The past experiences will never be forgotten and will be relived over and over at the family dinner table and in our stories with each other. Our expat friends will remain our expat friends. I smile when I read of their excitement over their summer visit home. I will still experience their travels and adventures through Facebook updates and e-mails. I will smile as I reflect and remember being an expat. It is kind of like our little family secret. Then I will turn off the computer and go about our new-old life here at 'home'.
I have read so much about repatriating. I have read books and articles and attended lectures all in preparation for this major event. I have prepared myself and my children for the emotional roller coaster that we were about to board. I have told them we would experience the same feelings as when we first became expats. We would be excited, go through the "honeymoon" stage where every shopping trip, grocery store visit, and drive down the street is just wonderful. We would then need to be prepared for the difficult adjustment of blending in with our 'old' friends, our new friends, and the return to a home town situation that is the same, but very different. We were prepared....we were ready...bring it on.
As the time to move back to the US drew closer, I would dream of our arrival back at Intercontinental Airport in Houston. I imagined getting off of the plane, jumping into each others' arms and crying with the tears of extreme happiness and excitement. In the final weeks of our Dubai assignment, everytime I heard the song "Wave Your Flag" I would cry. Oh, how I missed our flag and how I could not wait to see it hung so proudly everywhere you looked. So much joy was just around the corner.
As we began our "final descent into Houston", I did begin to cry. I was not crying those tears of joy and excitement though. The tears were of sadness of what I had left behind in my "expat" life. I immediately missed Dubai, our incredible school, and the wonderful friends I had made over the past two years. Those friends were our family for the past two years. I already missed them. When we entered the airport, there were not flags everywhere, just people. People in regular clothes, people who looked like us; the sea of women in black and men in white was gone. Instead of feeling overwhelming happiness, I felt out of place, a little confused. I just felt like maybe I didn't belong. I was now looking at Houston through critical eyes. The billboards, the one little mall in town, and the lack of shine and sparkle....they were all gone. What in the world was happening to me? Why wasn't I bubbling with pride over being home? I still just don't get it. The books SAID I would be excited. They SAID I would feel overwhelming happiness...before the sadness. They said this and that and I believed them!
The past two weeks have been filled with car shopping, phone shopping, and sending Sarah off to camp. The weeks have also been filled with the reality that I have an aging mother who needs a lot of care. It has been busy. It has been overwhelming. It has been reality. Just saying that outloud makes me reflect on the past four years and what a dream they have been. For four years we have traveled the world, met people from everywhere, and experienced things I never even dreamed of. We truly have lived in a dream world. We were not living a true reality.
Being an expat made us special, made us different. It gave you an opening line with everyone you meet. When people asked you where you live, how cool to say "Dubai". WOW...impressive. Our summers were spent shopping for the items we missed, the clothes we couldn't find (at reasonable prices), and reconnecting and sharing stories with our friends and family. Then before you knew it, off we would go, back to dreamland. Back to the place where you miss home, miss conveniences, but are feeling such excitement over the experiences before you. This is not the repatriation I was promised! This is not the feeling I expected, prepared for, and anticipated.
All of that being said, we are all fine. We are all adjusting. The kids have reconnected with their old friends, already have made new friends, and seem to have found their way rather quickly. They are really happy. I know there is still a lot ahead for us to navigate. Kevin's departure to Texas Tech, Sarah and Brian both going to a new High School, Jim's great reduction in travel and his being around more, and my new role as a caregiver for my mom.
It is our new life. It is our old-new life. Our expat life is over. That life is something few people we meet now will ever know about, will ever ask about, or ever be interested in hearing about. I am OK with that..really. The past experiences will never be forgotten and will be relived over and over at the family dinner table and in our stories with each other. Our expat friends will remain our expat friends. I smile when I read of their excitement over their summer visit home. I will still experience their travels and adventures through Facebook updates and e-mails. I will smile as I reflect and remember being an expat. It is kind of like our little family secret. Then I will turn off the computer and go about our new-old life here at 'home'.
