Installment Fifty-Five is the Conclusion!

When I was still living the life of the globally mobile expat (not to be confused with expats who spend gazillions renovating houses in Tuscany or Fez), I heard a great expression once in a lecture I attended by a Canadian author who found herself accidentally trapped in a career she never actively sought: writing, publishing, lecturing, and advocating for expat families like her own for over twenty years.

She coined the expression expat recidivism.

The author was being cheeky as was her trademark. But she was spot on when it came to this subject.

Many expats and their offspring who move around a lot, simply can't sit still. For some, it's the built-in migratory instinct which comes from moving a lot and often. Others just like the life abroad too much. So, like the criminal who does prison time and can't help himself once released, he quickly finds himself back behind bars.

And so it is for many expats who attempt to move 'home'. Too often, it ends with the towel being thrown in before one year is out. Back to the airport they go to once again embrace the global lifestyle.

Did I mention I am writing this from an airplane?

I'm not running away again, at least not this time, although I haven't decided yet whether I too will join the club of expats who become repats who become expats again.

I will admit, though, that when my plane took off a few hours ago, I experienced a sense of well-being and freedom I have never felt before (at least not without booze in me).

I was dragging no diaper bags, no toy bags, no emotional baggage, and best of all, no guilt as I had left the ground with only the best wishes and support of the people I love the most.

True, everyone was shocked when I informed all the key players of the drama of the last six months of my most immediate plans.

WTF?

That was TBM’s reaction of course. He has been trying to win me back. And I confess, there is something to be said for a long history with someone. Who knows?

"Is this because of what I told you Joelly?" asked Gabe, who only now I realize suffers from Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

"Darling girl, I will miss you, but just tell me what you need," Edna said, true to form. We had a heart to heart talk about my taking back her son. I promised her I would think about it. She knows he's acted badly, but he is her son afterall.

"Mom! I'm so proud of you!" said my darling daughter, whose wedding plans, she had confided in me, were now to run away to Las Vegas and be married by an Elvis impersonator. When I told her I had been joking when I initially suggested that idea, she said Sean thought it was just perfect. Go figure.

Of course, Gabe had also finally confessed the reason for his abandonment and a big wedding just seemed wrong. To my future son-in-law's credit, though, he plans to give his father a second chance.

Not me. No forgiveness on that score even if I am waffling about Martin.

Brian phoned in his approval, while Carolyn helped me decide how I should begin this new life adventure. I promised to send updates to Juliet and AFG (now a couple thanks to me) via Facebook.

Cousin Julie hopes I just get over my Messiah complex about wanting to save the world and come back to Canada to stay home. She's right when she points out that I haven't really given Ottawa a chance yet.

So why am I on an airplane?

I'm on my way to build houses in Ethiopia on a Habitat for Humanity project thanks to a suggestion by my new friend Jim Connery from the CHF.

Running off to hammer someone else’s walls into place may just be the next new thing for menopausal women like me, trying to figure out what to do with the rest of their lives.

While it may be too late to change what has happened in the past, one is never too old to try to make the world a better place.

Maybe, just maybe, after building houses for families less fortunate than myself, I'll find what I have been searching for my entire life, a place to call home.

I do know one thing for sure: home is definitely not a physical location. It's a place where I will feel comfortable in my own skin.

Getting there...



THE END