On Losing a Loved One Abroad

Living abroad comes with an encyclopedias worth of challenges. Moving into a new apartment, searching for simple amenities you had at home, losing touch with old friends, adjusting to an unfamiliar lifestyle, tasting local flavors, and learning a foreign language. On top of the everyday challenges, there are the rare and heartbreaking ones. The ones you never thought would happen to you. Losing a loved one abroad is one of those.

Losing a loved one abroad is one of the most difficult challenges to overcome. I lost my aunt six years ago while I was studying abroad in Thessaloniki, Greece. Like many, I assumed when I went back home, my family would be waiting for me with open arms. Losing a loved one abroad never even crossed my mind. 

My aunt wasn’t sick or old when I moved to Greece. She was only in the hospital for a week before we lost her. My mom had told me she was in the hospital, but either I didn’t understand the severity of the situation, or I was in denial. Only a few days later, my mom called to tell me she was gone.

Perhaps the hardest part, was accepting the loss. I had lost loved ones before, but at only 18 years old, this was the closest person to me that I had ever lost. I experienced a wide range of emotions. Anger, sadness, fear, hopelessness, anguish, anxiety, shock, and loneliness. I wanted to go home. I wanted to rewind.

The thing is, as much as my new friends wanted to help me cope with my loss, they didn’t know my aunt. Hell, they barely knew me. We had only met two months earlier. The loneliness was difficult to overcome. That night, I went to a bar we frequented and drank more than I usually did. I went home stumbling and confused. I knew drinking was not the answer to my problem, but it was my initial coping strategy.

During daylight, I began to think more clearly. I decided to write a letter, a eulogy of sorts, to my aunt. I wanted to remember all the good things about her. I wanted to remember all the things I loved about her. Her cooking, her artwork, her enthusiasm, her humor, her hugs. Writing was the best way to cope with my loss and my loneliness.

The Guilt

Then, came the most difficult decision. Go home for the funeral or stay in Greece? Specialists have different opinions in regards to going home for the burial. My cousins assumed I would go home and my parents urged me to do what I thought was best. I chose to stay in Greece. I knew she would have wanted me to stay and enjoy my life as she did hers. She would have wanted me to take advantage of all the opportunities in front of me.

I have to admit, not going home was extremely challenging. My life was turned upside down and the truth of the loss did not hit me until I was home a few months later. I knew she was gone. I grieved the best I could. But missing that funeral was difficult. I felt guilty for not being there. I felt guilty for not being able to say goodbye. I wanted to be there for my family and hug my friends. But most importantly, I wanted to see her one last time. I wanted to tell her I love her.

Today

To this day, I think of my aunt more often than most people know. Small details remind me of her, like the odor of stale cigarettes on a car seat, the sweet taste of Swedish fish, or the sound of crashing waves on the shore. Certain songs evoke emotions when I least expect them, and I laugh or cry when I imagine her smile.

Visiting her grave triggers great grief. I no longer feel regret, but at times I am angry that I did not attend her funeral. I am thankful her burial site is a place where I can visit whenever I please. A place where I can talk to her like I used to.

My aunt was my teacher, my friend, and my family. Losing her has changed the way I live my life. I take more risks, I travel to more places, and I love more fully. I know this is the way she would have wanted me to live. Doing what I love allows me to cherish the memories I had. Now, when I think about my aunt, I laugh more often than I cry.