It’s been just over a month since we packed up all of our worldly belongings and headed 3,000kms away from home. Surprisingly (and not so surprisingly) the “Move” has gone very well and Hubbie and I often wonder if we’re jinxing ourselves when we tell people just how wonderful it has been.
We are settling in nicely, enjoying all of the things to offer in our new city and mostly we are enjoying our time as a family which happens daily now that my husband is not working shifts.
That in itself was worth the move.
We consider ourselves very lucky, both for having the opportunity to make the move and also that relocating our family literally across the country has gone so well.
But one of the most surprising things is that we aren’t overwhelmingly missing. I mean missing in general of people, places and things. Of course we miss people but there hasn’t been any tears or feelings of wanting to go home.
Today I craved sushi. I needed to have sushi. I haven’t had sushi since my Dad took me for “goodbye sushi” two weeks before we moved. That’s six weeks of sushi-free living and definitely needed to be corrected.
So for the first time on my own I exited my office tower and ventured off into the downtown core of my new city, with my iPhone Map and sushi on the brain. Not surprisingly there is a sushi place on every corner but I walked the extra block to the one someone recommended in passing.
It was different than at “home” but I sat down, ordered a pot of tea and began to dissect the menu. No sushi lunch. Bento boxes seemed to be their specialty, so I ordered one.
After all when in Rome…
When my miso soup came I wrapped my hands around the bowl and sipped generously. It was the perfect temperature and perfectly to taste. I instantly started to feel my sushi craving subsiding and I hadn’t even had sushi yet!
When the bento box came it was beautiful. So beautiful in fact I took a picture and loaded it onto my Facebook account with the status “Wish you were here”. When I was about to tag the picture the missing started… real tear inducing missing.
I miss my Dad who would always try to be available for impromptu sushi but never was. Instead, I would resort to booking myself into his calendar two or three weeks in advance but still never hesitated to send 11:50am emails with the subject line “Lunch?” and no content in the body just in case.
I miss my sister. I miss her so much it hurts. Though it is usually quashed by being proud and excited for her and the university adventure she has embarked upon, I still miss her madly. Today, while eating sushi alone, I think that she really should be here to celebrate her first university mid-term exam A.
I miss my cousin Jenny who was envious that I’ve always lived in cities with a plethora of sushi options but I am even more envious that she was brave enough to attempt to make it herself.
I miss my friends. My sushi buddies. My neighbourhood mamas who would plan girls’ nights when we all needed them the most. We shared mom stories, husband stories, kid stories and some of us shared a therapist (that always made for interesting discussion). None of them shared a love of sake with their sushi which was really their only undesirable quality.
I miss my friend Chris. He is just as girly as me and still the perfect gentleman. Where my husband doesn’t like sushi, red wine or decorating our home, Chris has always been happy to step in. He’s the perfect lunch date and the definition of everything you want in a friend.
Today I missed. Hard. Alone in a strange city I now call home in a sushi restaurant that felt anything like home, I missed. I choked back tears only to feel them force their way back to the surface.
I didn’t post my sushi lunch on Facebook and there were no messages of wish you were here. I finished my lunch, and ventured back out into the urban core holding back the tears for blocks thinking it’s only sushi but knowing it is so much more.