Holding On and Letting Go: The Duality of Family Ties and Personal Freedom
Reading time: 2 minutes
Written by: Annmarie Borosic
Last week was a tough one. My parents had left at 4:00am to catch their 6:00am flight back to back to Toronto. I later just sat there, on my couch in my deafeningly quiet apartment, accustomed to this stillness, yet that day felt profoundly different. I closed all my windows to block out the sounds of the vibrant and colourful life outside, allowing myself to be consumed by my emotions.
That day was much harder than I had anticipated. It had been quite some time since I lived in a home filled with people, family, and laughter. It had also been the first time I hosted anyone for longer than a day. My parents and I laughed a lot, enjoyed little adventures, and sat watching movies together. I don’t ever recall a time we had done that as a family, ever. Our lives were always busy with work or other obligations, but with my mom’s retirement, my dad’s on the horizon, and my moving to a vacation spot, suddenly, we had time.
As I watched their Uber disappear under the streetlights, I felt an instant wave of guilt. I don’t recall asking to hear stories of my dad’s life before me or asking my mom to share hers. Did we talk about those things? We spent time together - that’s the important thing, right? Having enjoyed the stillness, the views, and being together. That’s what we can carry with us. If I’m being honest, now, I can barely remember a thing we spoke about. Why can’t I remember?
That day was difficult. It was different from when I left Canada. This time, my mom and dad had to hug me goodbye, turn around and walk away. So, I sat in my apartment, alone, in silence, coping with family separation, knowing that I wouldn’t see my family again for months. I knew this when I moved. I’ve known this every day since my arrival, but on that day, after a happy full home, I was left alone with my thoughts, navigating life’s transitions to push through and to continue to push forward for the life I truly want. My mom told me I still looked like her daughter and that I looked happy. That it feels like a home here. I think that’s what I can hope for, to not only feel happy but to look happy and to prove to myself this is exactly what I asked for and that it was the right decision.
I feel incredibly sad having had to say goodbye to them. I knew I’d miss my family, but damn, this is the one downside - the goodbyes. At the very least, I guess we know I’m where I need to be. It would be nice if life were easy sometimes though, you know? But going for the life you want is a sacrifice, I’m learning. It’s hard, it’s sad, but the beauty in each day knowing I’m doing exactly what I need to for myself reminds me I’m doing what I’ve always dreamed of and it’s so damn good!
