I’m about 4950 km from home. It doesn’t even sound that far, does it? It feels like 10.000 km sometimes. Most of the time I’m good. Yes, of course I miss my parents, my sister, my nephew and my friends and family, but usually I’m okay. But sometimes it just hits me, it seems to come out of nowhere and I can’t help it: I can’t stop crying. I cry and I cry and I cry because I just miss the Netherlands. It’s not just about the people I know, but about everything. About walking around in Amsterdam, it being normal to NOT take your car everywhere you go but walk, bike or train. About hearing Dutch around you. Walking into asnackbar if you don’t feel like cooking (I used to call the snackbar around the corner from where I lived, placed an order and picked it up just so I wouldn’t have to wait It’s not a normal thing to do in Holland, at least not at the snackbars I used to go to). The Dutch ‘gezelligheid‘! Having pancakes for dinner instead of just for breakfast. The Dutch directness that just makes it so easy to understand everything and everybody, instead of having to chew your way through a layer of sugarcoating before you get through what is actually been said. Maybe it’s just the ease of understanding everything and everybody, being familiar with all the written and unwritten rules, just feeling at home.
I can’t help it, sometimes I hear a Dutch song (yes, I put them on myself of course, it’s not like they just play it on Canadian radio. But I never expect to crumble, it always seems to surprise me. It also doesn’t always happen) I just fold over and cry. Or like today, I was having fun doing the dishes (yes, that sounds contradictory, but because I hate doing dishes so much I decided to make it fun and put some music on. Big mistake), the boys were helping/watching daddy shave and I was listening to this song (I also found it on YouTube with English subtitles in case you’re interested), a song that doesn’t mean more to me than a song I loudly sang along with in 2000 – which surprisingly is 13 years ago already! But it just came over me. I held on to the counter and cried and cried and cried. Tears stained my shirt and the countertop, but I couldn’t do anything but keep crying. I felt like there was a hole in my belly and it couldn’t be filled.
Then one of the boys came running up to me cause he had a booboo that needed to be kissed, I wiped my tears away, turned the music off and everything was back to normal. Almost like it never happened.
Crazy thing, that ‘homesick’… Will it ever go away, just disappear? Will it get better or worse? Should I visit home or will I never want to go leave again?
Click here to see my ‘I LOVE the Netherlands‘ Pinterest board.