There is such a bitter-sweetness to farewells.
On on hand, one can find hope in the sadness;
There is still sun to light the way;
There is still color to be found;
There are still bright spots amongst all that bid us farewell;
On the other hand, sometimes we must say goodbye à contre-coeur (against our heart’s desire) – like on Friday night when we attended the going-away party for our close friends, Jobby and Hisill and their three children, who are going back to India after being with us for three years.
We have been through so much together. They arrived when our house was still in major construction, and they shared our first Christmas dinner with us in our new house (sitting on plastic chairs at a fold-out card table, that boasted of foie gras). Their daughter was so severely under the normal weight, she was hospitalized for a week, only to be eventually declared perfectly healthy – which they already knew.
We joked about arranged marriages.
We joked about our own marriages.
Our older children played and ate rice with their fingers, which they learned from spending nearly every Friday night together for our dinner discussions. Needless to say, their departure will be strongly felt. They invited us to go to India and stay with them (actually, they invited the entire church to India to stay with them). And do you know? I’m sure we will go.
The turnout for their goodbye party was massive. Without speaking a word of French at the start, they managed to make friends in every corner. Of course, Hisill was very motivated to speak French for his job, and learned it quickly – only making the occasional gaffe, like requesting a fesse à fesse for “face to face.”
Fesse à fesse means, “butt to butt,” by the way.
Hisill was invited to preach at church today (in French), as it was his farewell service. He started by showing the cartoon of the guy hanging from a branch off a cliff, with the caption, “God! Save me!”
God answers, “Let go of the branch.”
The guys thinks for a couple of seconds, then calls out, “Can anyone else help me??”
His point was that sometimes you have to let go of the branch, even when it seems crazy. Nine years ago when their son was born, Hisill could not have dreamed that one day he would live in France. He had graduated with an engineering degree at a time when the country was undergoing a huge financial crisis, and was only able to get a job teaching Microsoft Word for an NGO (non-governmental organization) at a shockingly low salary. When his son was born, he “upgraded” to another NGO at 150€ a month, which is still extremely low, even for India.
He and his wife and son lived in such low-income housing, they were forced to use a shared bathroom in the corridor. This bathroom was below another toilet upstairs, whose septic tank leaked continually. Every time they went to the bathroom, sewage would drip all over them and they were forced to take a bath following every trip to the loo. This was also the likely cause of their infant son constantly falling ill.
Who could have thought that from these humble beginnings, one job would lead to another, and that in just six short years, Hisill would become a senior manager at Renault – that they would give him an ex-pat status so that he and his family would be living in a huge 4-bedroom apartment in a wealthy suburb of Paris?
You just never know where life is going to take you – no one could shout this belief with more conviction than Hisill. And just possibly when you have to say farewell, or endure what seems to be the death of your dreams, it is only so that something amazingly beyond belief can pop up again.
Kind of like the zucchini.
Which is still producing!
Oh, I read this with equal amounts af sadness and happiness. What a wonderful three years you have all shared and what a great life your friends have come to know and deserve.
I know – we, ourselves, have moved so much that we know the feeling of being ships passing in the night (even if that is prosaic). We’re glad to know them though.
Beautifully written Lady J. Such a heartwarming story. Best wishes to Hisill and his family.
Hisill and his wife are getting pumped up for their departure by all the comment love they are getting here. 🙂
It is so wonderful to hear about good things happening to good people! And no doubt their departure will feel like a gaping loss, but hopefully your lives will be the richer for having had them in France with you, and how much fun you will have visiting them in India. Perhaps it is fitting that in French you would say ‘au revoir’ as opposed to the English ‘goodbye’ that has such terribly permanent connotations? As a fellow Mandarin speaker, I always liked that ‘zaijian’ literally means something like ‘see you again.’
I didn’t know you spoke Mandarin too! Cool! (Of course I have lost all claim to it after these 20+ years).
I love that they made it through tough times to find more comfortable ones! I hope you do have the chance to visit them in India and are able to enjoy a Friday night with your friends again.
I bet we’ll eat way better, too, if we have our dinner over there!
Good things happen to good people, as evidenced by your friends, and of course, you.
Best of luck to your dear friends!
I know – I love it when people get a much-needed break!
I hope you do get over there to see them. My husband loved India and it’s on my list now. I’ll be thinking of them and praying for them, because there is nothing so heartbreaking as leaving beautiful Paris and beloved Parisian friends behind! (So excited to hear about your book, btw.)
I know (sigh). I guess the odds are not super great about getting re-posted somewhere a second time.
Hisill’s story is amazing and you told it beautifully. I too hope you visit them in India, and write about it.
Both my husband and I have been to India before for work, but never together and not with the kids. That would make it all the more fun.
It’s true, you never know which turns your life will take 🙂
I sense a wink behind this for your own adventure. Thinking of you!
Inspiring. Beautiful. xo
Beautiful….and so very true. I needed to read this today…my last day of work for one of my jobs.
Hi GiGi, I’m wishing you tons of luck on your new adventure.
Let go of the branch….
Indeed.
I love you, my friend.
Thinking of you for this weekend!
Hi! I found your blog via someone else’s who left a comment on my group blog! LOVED this post! I thought your cool pic was so unique that is what brought me here but the writing in the post was great. And the pics! Blessings!
What an honor to have your visit Carrie – thank you!
Such a beautiful real life story. I wish them all the luck in the world.
And for your zucchini 🙂
My zucchini doesn’t need luck. It carries the luck of the zucchini worldwide.
Oh, how this resonates with me. The expat community is such a fragile, mutable thing. Goodbyes are hard, whether you’re the one going or the one staying. Drum bun to your friends as their journey continues.
I absolutely hate goodbyes, I have done them over and over in my life, I just don’t do them anymore! I love hearing that people can still change their life in other parts of the world, it is something that I am very proud (it is hard to find a lot) of the U.S. for – there are still ways to “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” and make a better life….
What a great reminder: sometimes you have to let go of the branch. Your post came on the same day that someone else suggested I ask: what next? Meaning, to look at change in a positive way rather than a negative way which is my go-to response.
I hope you and your family do get to visit them in India someday.