My little sister died in May. We were really close and it was traumatic and unexpected. It feels so hard to explain all of it in a forum post, I guess because the hurt is still so big, and I don't like dwelling on her death because it makes it hard to remember her life, you know? But the story is that she was thirty and beautiful and my very best friend and she died from pre-eclampsia and related complications in her seventh month of pregnancy. She went straight to hospital when she felt unwell, collapsed upon arriving and died twelve hours later, so it was very sudden. I left as soon as I heard something was wrong, first flight out (she was in Illinois, I'm in Lancashire), but she was brain dead when I arrived. (Awaiting organ donation procedures.)
My niece was born scrawny but healthy via c-section right away, and I am happy to report that despite her sad beginnings, she is thriving. She lives with her dad, and looks like her mom. I stayed in Chicago over the summer to help foster her, and miss her very, very much now that I'm back. I even went back in October, I missed her so, and also wanted to check on my parents. I'm already stuck in a June visit for family stuff and so I'm in the middle of a big stretch of not visiting. I usually try to go twice a year if we can afford it. (We really can't, but we scrape.)
So, that is the story. I think something like this happening is a huge fear for most expats I know and it was as terrible as you'd expect. I felt and often still feel like I am obligated to move back, even though my heart is English these days. I often get comments from my US people that it must be nice to live so far away from her house and all the reminders of her, as if they never consider how isolated I feel, being denied those places and reminders. I resent them acting as though my life in the UK is a holiday from real life and implying that it's easier than theirs. My (British) in-laws have been great, even buying my husband's flight for the funeral when we couldn't afford it on such short notice, but his brother and family, who live in London, took a literal four months to even bother getting in touch with their condolences. I don't often get mad but I have been stubbornly ignoring them since. It made me feel like I left all the people who meant so much to me for what? A family who can't even text in a matter of life and death? Ugh. Rock, meet hard place!
I just wanted to vent a little to others who understand that life takes you places sometimes that don't make sense to anyone but you. I get so worn down by my unsupportive family and it makes me miss my sister so, so much, because she was the only one who supported my move here, and my marriage, and got really excited for me about all of it. Actually, she came to see me when she was six months pregnant, just so we could visit before the baby and she was totally determined to celebrate her upcoming college graduation (she got her diploma two weeks before she died) with her first international trip. I'm so glad I got to see her when I did. It was a special time for us anyway but now it's priceless in my head. It's sad, I know, but also kind of comforting in a way that the last photo of us is me with my hand on her bump, because it's the only photo there will ever be of her, my niece and I together.
This is all a big preamble to ask you guys how you've dealt with second guessing your move decision because of grief? Or pressure on it? Am I the only one who feels like a newbie immigrant once again after a death? It feels like I have to learn how to do everything in my life all over again without her, my missing half. My husband and I are trying to have a baby of our own now, too, and you can imagine how complicated that is anyway, let alone now. I've just been feeling pretty down since the holidays and it helps to talk about it. Thanks for listening while I ramble on, and sorry for any auto corrections.
