“Back where I come from”
It’s a phrase I often open with when sharing stories with people that express difficulties through experienced loss. Gives a great frame of reference for understanding what may be one person’s tragedy that could offer insight and inspiration to another to…
… KEEP GOING! 🏃♀️
Below, a photo gallery taken from the aftermath of one of the deadliest tornados in recent US history in May of 2011. I wrote about it on my former blog here.
Embarking on a recent transatlantic flight, I found myself on a familiar journey to the United States, a trip primarily dedicated to caretaking, and reconnecting with my beloved relatives.
Throughout my adult life, I've shouldered the responsibility of caring for others, a role I've embraced with dedication and contentment. However, as I enter middle age, my priorities shift, and I sense that the voyage was marking one of my final trips for such purposes.
Each return to my native hometown in Missouri seems to coincide with a tumultuous event—be it a tragic loss, an unforeseen injury, or an unexpected illness.
This recent trip last month was meant to spend time with my aging dad. But instead was overshadowed by the death of my 29 year old niece who died of a drug overdose.
Ironically, Maddie (who was also my legally adopted sister, though born my niece) survived the aforementioned tornado was seeking shelter in the Walmart that was destroyed, where others died.
We all have an assigned timeline. Hope everyone is appreciating living theirs.
In 2022, I contracted the Omicron variant (first time getting Covid), resulting in the loss of my hair, a condition exacerbated by my preexisting alopecia. Despite the physical changes, I've come to embrace my baldness as a symbol of self-acceptance and authenticity, filtering out those who value more than surface appearances.
On occasion, these challenges have even arisen due to my own carelessness. I once flew into Missouri amidst an ice storm to assist my sister in relocating our cantankerous 91-year-old grandmother to an assisted living facility—only to slip on the icy ground upon arrival of my rerouted flight to another city and state the and then break my leg upon exiting the vehicle arriving in my parent’s driveway.
Another memorable trip led me to an undisclosed location in Kansas, where I unexpectedly spent six days and $6,000 in a rehabilitation center, guided by childhood friends whose intentions were unclear and unannounced to me, or my clinical practitioners, and psychiatrist, that were helping with the responsibility for my mental health (post suicide attempt and postpartum depression diagnosis) at that time.
In 2015, I found myself delivering a eulogy to a crowd of 300 mourners at my stepmother's funeral, following her sudden passing from a 7 centimeter inoperable brain tumour that somehow went for years, undetected. Then, to make matters worse my tribute to her led to familial discord, with my stepfather subsequently removing me and my sister from our family.
He removed our power of attorney over my mother in the weeks that followed, who suffers from full blown Alzheimers lying lifeless in diapers, being spoon fed, in a nursing home. My step-father too passed away six months later from a sudden heart attack, leaving a wake of dramatic paperwork that needed legal representation. I didn’t travel back to Missouri for that death though.
In 2019, I embarked on a journey with my then-husband to inform my family of our impending divorce, only to be confronted with yet another crisis—a boating accident that left my father with a chronic spinal cord injury. Amidst the chaos of his hospitalisation our divorce announcement was postponed, overshadowed by the gravity of my aging father's condition.
Through the highs and lows of these experiences, I've come to recognise the unpredictability of life and the resilience required to navigate its challenges. As I embark on this latest journey, I do so with a sense of acceptance and determination, knowing that each trial offers an opportunity for growth and self-discovery.
Refocusing Priorities
As I continue to grow older and gain wisdom from life's experiences, I've come to a realisation: the toll of expensive and emotionally draining trips to visit relatives and friends in my hometown often outweighs the benefits.
Over the years, I've witnessed a shift in circumstances among my American counterparts, making international travel increasingly challenging for many. Health issues, chronic illnesses, and obesity have become barriers to long-haul trips, hindering the ability of loved ones to visit me in my adopted European homeland where walking 15k steps per day, swiftly is mandatory just to keep up with living life in a populated urban area. The physical and emotional toll of travel, coupled with the complexities of navigating airport connections, often leave guests exhausted before arriving to their destination.
During a 2020 visit when Holland was still on a lockdown, I escaped to freely liberated-from-the-mask-USA, prompting me to reflect on the need for healing and self-reflection.
My writing coach advised me to temper my anger, refrain from assigning blame, and avoid potentially damaging revelations about myself and others. This advice underscored the importance of prioritising my well-being and preserving the dignity of those connected to my past.
While the arduous 21-hour commute across the pond remains daunting, I stay committed to nurturing relationships with those who accept me for who I am.
Despite the challenges, I view these visits as a moral obligation to cherish the few individuals who continue to support my journey of self-discovery and growth.
Thank you from the bottom of my cold and (bitter)sweet heart if you are one of them!
Namaste xx
Audra
I live not to far from Joplin.
Overdoses, like tornadoes, are devastating for tsunamis and waves and ripples of the community. I’m sorry for your losses.
And also- I’m happy for you having found your new home.
I am so sorry for the loss of your niece and everything else you have endured. Thank you for sharing and sending you my love.