Meanwhile here in the U.S., school is still in session until just before Christmas. The air is cold, the evenings dark by 5pm, and Christmas looks like something straight out of a Hallmark movie- twinkling lights, hot cocoa, gingerbread everything, inflatable Santas on suburban lawns.
We live in two worlds now.
We scroll through photos of loved ones back home, feeling the tug. The longing. The ache of not being there. And yet, here in our new life, we’re building something beautiful too.
This weekend, we put on our Christmas pajamas, turned up the holiday music, and baked cookies together. It was messy and loud and full of laughter, exactly the kind of moment memories are made of.
This is the paradox of emigration.
You miss home with a sharpness that catches you off guard. But you also learn to throw your arms wide open to what’s in front of you. To create new rhythms, new rituals, new meaning.
It doesn’t replace what you left, it layers onto it.
So we light the lights, sip the cocoa, sing the songs, and hold gratitude for the life we’re building- even when our hearts stretch across oceans.
Wherever you are this Christmas- in snow or sunshine- may your season be full of connection, hope, and moments that make you feel at home.
