ARTIST. GRIOT. ACTIVIST

Laying in the delirious lucidity of a fever (COVID), felt in a very weird way like a cleansing. Between the migraines, the fever, and the nonstop coughing, were periods of calm resolve as I pondered the pause before the chaos. The chaos of relocation, that is.

Relocation for us has for the past 3 years been a thought without a definite time frame because a lot goes into the planning of it, and life is just too busy right now!

Then we went back to Italy.

The streets, the smells, the people, a lot has changed, yet nothing has. It still felt familiar, we walked through the streets, absent minded, pausing where we should, turning at the right turns for the faster routes without a though or second guessing where it’ll take us, and then being pleasantly surprised to find exactly what we knew laid at the end of that road. It was flawless, the short cuts and gushed delights at seeing the same structures we forgot about. Met with people we had left behind. Gelato from the same gelateria, the focaccia from the same panficio, the motorini all over the place, and the svelte, well-dressed pedestrian, the gardens, the lungo mare….

It was home.

There was no contest, no second guessing, no more delays, we knew it was time to go back. It was a very easy decision to make really. We never should have left, and we have no roots here, even after 11 years! It was a rather surreal realization, to come to terms with the truth, that space was made for us to sojourn but not to pitch our tent, so a tent we never really had.

It has been a long time away from home.

We’ve never felt at home here, and we have never really been adopted by anyone anyway, so it was easy, and so when I spoke with Ms. K that evening, I told her “I think it’s time to return to Europe” and she sounded genuinely happy to hear that. She said “That is Exciting! (with emphasis on the word). Let’s talk about it when you get back!”

See, Ms. K was a disguised angel that showed up when all hell broke loose during the pandemic, and we had to go into hiding because we feared for our lives.  It was a time I had to fight for my dignity, my sanity and my safety. My community was quickly divided into two groups, the small group that stood at a very safe distance reminding me I was a fighter and will get through, but didn’t realize that underneath my armor was a warrior needing repose.

Then there was the larger group that looked the other way because it was the only way they knew how not to ‘take sides’ forgetting that hurt has no sides. When people hurt, it runs deep, and pain that runs deep seeks healing, and healing can indeed be offered without creating ‘sides’. So it didn’t take long to find myself alone.

It was surreal to learn with amazing clarity that the phrase “You can count on me to be there” was an unfinished sentence that held a very heavy condition to its obligation. It was surreal to come to the realization that I stood alone in a foreign land with no family, and no friends really…till along comes Ms. K.

She became our council, our guide, our support and our friend. She was there when everyone else thought the less awkward thing was to look away, and they did. She ensured we were OK; she remained the constant cheer and brace that kept us upright till we found our footing again. And she has remained constant since, asking for nothing in return. What was most amazing was she had NO REASON to have even bothered. But heaven knows I needed to learn anew what friendship really means, what family is (or isn’t) what trust looks and feels like and what weight a promise really holds.

I always said someday, I will find a way to pay her back. Then coming back from Italy, Ms. K arranged to have us picked from the airport and had food ready because she didn’t want us bothered with cooking after a long flight. We got home, ate, and then stared at each other quietly as it finally hit us, that we do have family here after all – Ms. K! And how insensitive to have blurted out our intention to relocate without much thought to how she might take it.

So, days after the jetlag wore off enough. I stopped by to drop off some things, and hoping to get a chance to apologize for the insensitivity of how the news was delivered but was surprised to learn that the timing for our relocation couldn’t have been any better because she was moving too! She had been contemplating on selling her home and moving out of state to be closer to family due to her flailing health. So, while she was worried about sharing that news with us, knowing she was our emergency contact, and worrying about what being without family would trigger for us, she was very relieved when I told her (while we were in Italy) that we had decided to relocate. She said it was like the gods were playing this perfectly for things to fall into place as should be!

Now our relocation and Ms. K’s are schedule for about the same period. This feels perfect!!

There is A LOT to get rid off before we leave. Art supplies, fabric, leather, beading supplies, Canvases, Paints (I need to figure out what to do with my unfinished paintings…)

Relocating IS HARD WORK…but it feels good to finally return where we belong – Home. And Ms K, will always be family even from across the Atlantic. Sometimes family happen in unexpected ways and who knows in what other ways ours may expand.

Now unto greater things…Peace begins with me.

Naan Pocen ©2024