Monday, September 21, 2015

A proper goodbye

It's been over a year since we moved from Belgium, and I never took the time to write this one final post. Shame on me. Let's fix that, shall we?

In the past year, the passing of time has been grinding our lives like the vast glaciers that carved out the Norwegian fjords millions of years ago. I've been cut, ground up and scattered to the winds, but somehow I'm still here to write my proper goodbye. My epilogue. Our epitaph.

2010-2014, the years I spent in Belgium, were some of the happiest years of my life. I was lucky enough to spend them with someone I loved, in a country I eventually learned to love, warts and all.

I explored the country. Made new friends and acquaintances. I lived and breathed a new culture, a new nation, a new people. It changed me in uncountable ways.

Most importantly, those years gave me a son. He is everything to me now. My life belongs to him, and it's the most beautiful life I could imagine living.

We decided to move back to Norway last spring. There was much hesitation, much back-and-forth before we made the final call. I had to be convinced that it could work, that Bika would be happy there, in the north, in the cold, in the dark, in a strange land where the people speak a strange language and live their strange ways. I had become comfortable in Belgium, but could she adapt as successfully to Norway? She'd tried it once before, and it hadn't worked out.

Somehow, she convinced me. We packed our most precious belongings into three cars and drove the 3000 km (1,800 mi) from Halle to Malangen.

Ten months later, we were separated. Bika moved back to Belgium, leaving our one-and-a-half-year-old son with me, in the country we'd both decided he would grow up in.

I won't get into more detail here - that's the path to the dark side, and I'm feeling pretty bright today. Suffice to say it's been a rough year. The good news is that my heart's still beating, and where there is life, there is hope, and when there's a will, there's a way. I can close this book and open another. My life has only just begun.

And because I want attention and affirmation, I'm going to keep sharing this life with you, dear readers. We'll meet again, in another time and place. Until then, take good care of each other.


  1. Have you started a new blog yet?

    1. I've written a few posts here and there, but I haven't blogged regularly since I wrapped up this one. My hobbies, interests and afflictions are too fragmented to sustain an interest in writing at length about either one of them. If I do, it'll probably focus on diabetes or social anxiety. If I do, I'll be sure to post about it on here.