How was your trip?
So, as of yesterday, I've been back home for 2 weeks. 2 very weird, long, strange, jam-packed weeks. And I'll be leaving in 2 days (before 6am, no less) for what supposedly is the last step of my YASC journey.
I don't think I can accurately describe what it feels like, what it means to be home. But I do know that, more than any other single thing, most people have opened a conversation with "Welcome home! How was your trip?"
For the first part, I am glad. I am grateful and lucky to come back to such supportive communities, friends, and family, but that second question causes something else. While I try my best to keep my smile outwardly the same, inside I have a furrowed brow, a head tilt, and a mental voice saying "Really?!?!?"
Because, for starters, this wasn't a "trip". Also, can anyone easily sum up an entire year that is inherently life altering, while it's still happening? You don't ask a mom at her kids first birthday "how was your last year?" because there is no way to answer that question, and also it's just kinda weird to ask that. Same goes here (except I didn't have a kid). I did, similarly, have a whole bunch of different ups and downs and events that helped shape the terrain of my last year, which was why I tried my best to record them and save them as blogs or journal entries or photos or just notes to myself. But there are over severaldozen hundred of those, so that just seems ridiculous to sum up in small talk, so I don't.
And, to be blunt, that question shows me that the asker didn't actually bother to follow along with what I posted during the time I was gone. I understand that I should not ever be the center of anyone's world, and I don't expect people to know every detail I posted, but there were a few key things put out there that are hard to miss, like how sick I got. So when people ask this question and I responded with the answer that it's going as well as I could hope for now that I am home, and that the 8 doctors and all the associated followups and tests are complicating and draining on me emotionally (and financially), it does kinda hurt me a bit when they look confused and just say ok before hastily trying to get out of the conversation.
So here are my recommendations, and these apply beyond me to others coming home after being away for a long time (like military deployments or extended hospitalizations or just moving cross country solo):
1. If you aren't prepared to talk for a while and/or hear something surprising, don't include a question. It is perfectly fine with me if you say "Welcome home! It's so great to see you again!" and move on.
2. If we did stay in touch, or you followed along, I'd rather hear "How are you?" than "How was your trip?" (and huge thanks to the many people who asked exactly that! I am not my trip, and my trip doesn't have emotions to care about, I do.)
3. If you're legitimately interested, just ask for a time to talk more. The line for coffee after church is not the ideal place, but if you genuinely care, I'd be happy to visit or meet up for a lunch or dinner or just more coffee when there's time to actually connect with each other. I'm happy to share, and I enjoy learning about what folks are curious about! But there's no way to have any meaningful connection in passing conversation, and after being away, meaningful connection and a sense of belonging have a different weight and importance to them, so it cheats us both to not acknowledge that.
4. (This one is less for me specifically, and more for others I know) Never be afraid to add "I'm so proud of you and the strength it must have taken to do/get through this." Whether solo or military or sick, being away is a huge thing, and it takes bravery because you want to quit so many times and for various reason. But you didn't. You stayed with what you did, and you fought to do it well, and that's not something everyone can do.
So for those in treatment centers away from their families because of illnesses, and for parents who miss out on seeing their kids grow up because of deployments, and for every person brave enough to leave all they've known to pursue their passion and what's right for them, I say:
"I'm proud of you. The world needs more of that. I know it isn't easy, but you are such a fighter, and I hope I can follow your lead. And know, that if you find yourself in my neck of the woods, I have an open offer of a home cooked meal for you, because you deserve it, I like to cook, and maybe it'll be a good start to a chance to reconnect. Because you matter to me, and your story should be heard with the respect it is due."
I don't think I can accurately describe what it feels like, what it means to be home. But I do know that, more than any other single thing, most people have opened a conversation with "Welcome home! How was your trip?"
For the first part, I am glad. I am grateful and lucky to come back to such supportive communities, friends, and family, but that second question causes something else. While I try my best to keep my smile outwardly the same, inside I have a furrowed brow, a head tilt, and a mental voice saying "Really?!?!?"
Because, for starters, this wasn't a "trip". Also, can anyone easily sum up an entire year that is inherently life altering, while it's still happening? You don't ask a mom at her kids first birthday "how was your last year?" because there is no way to answer that question, and also it's just kinda weird to ask that. Same goes here (except I didn't have a kid). I did, similarly, have a whole bunch of different ups and downs and events that helped shape the terrain of my last year, which was why I tried my best to record them and save them as blogs or journal entries or photos or just notes to myself. But there are over several
And, to be blunt, that question shows me that the asker didn't actually bother to follow along with what I posted during the time I was gone. I understand that I should not ever be the center of anyone's world, and I don't expect people to know every detail I posted, but there were a few key things put out there that are hard to miss, like how sick I got. So when people ask this question and I responded with the answer that it's going as well as I could hope for now that I am home, and that the 8 doctors and all the associated followups and tests are complicating and draining on me emotionally (and financially), it does kinda hurt me a bit when they look confused and just say ok before hastily trying to get out of the conversation.
So here are my recommendations, and these apply beyond me to others coming home after being away for a long time (like military deployments or extended hospitalizations or just moving cross country solo):
1. If you aren't prepared to talk for a while and/or hear something surprising, don't include a question. It is perfectly fine with me if you say "Welcome home! It's so great to see you again!" and move on.
2. If we did stay in touch, or you followed along, I'd rather hear "How are you?" than "How was your trip?" (and huge thanks to the many people who asked exactly that! I am not my trip, and my trip doesn't have emotions to care about, I do.)
3. If you're legitimately interested, just ask for a time to talk more. The line for coffee after church is not the ideal place, but if you genuinely care, I'd be happy to visit or meet up for a lunch or dinner or just more coffee when there's time to actually connect with each other. I'm happy to share, and I enjoy learning about what folks are curious about! But there's no way to have any meaningful connection in passing conversation, and after being away, meaningful connection and a sense of belonging have a different weight and importance to them, so it cheats us both to not acknowledge that.
4. (This one is less for me specifically, and more for others I know) Never be afraid to add "I'm so proud of you and the strength it must have taken to do/get through this." Whether solo or military or sick, being away is a huge thing, and it takes bravery because you want to quit so many times and for various reason. But you didn't. You stayed with what you did, and you fought to do it well, and that's not something everyone can do.
So for those in treatment centers away from their families because of illnesses, and for parents who miss out on seeing their kids grow up because of deployments, and for every person brave enough to leave all they've known to pursue their passion and what's right for them, I say:
"I'm proud of you. The world needs more of that. I know it isn't easy, but you are such a fighter, and I hope I can follow your lead. And know, that if you find yourself in my neck of the woods, I have an open offer of a home cooked meal for you, because you deserve it, I like to cook, and maybe it'll be a good start to a chance to reconnect. Because you matter to me, and your story should be heard with the respect it is due."
Comments
Post a Comment