Dealing with Emotions
The year 2024 began with a bang as we embarked on an unforgettable journey. On December 26th, 2023, we packed our bags in Toronto and set off on a road trip across the USA, starting with Florida. Our plan was to drive all the way from Florida to Vancouver, BC, where we would spend six weeks with our daughter, who was eagerly awaiting the arrival of her first baby.
The excitement was palpable. We had dreamt of going on a "cross USA" road trip for years, and finally, the time had come. Filled with joy, we loaded up our car with snacks and goodies. Our first stop was Tampa, where we spent three delightful days with friends. From there, we made our way to Miami, where we welcomed the new year of 2024.
On January 2nd, our road trip officially began. Atlanta was our next destination, followed by Nashville, which quickly became our favorite place. We immersed ourselves in the rich history of rock and roll and country music, discovering talented singers and musicians at every turn, from restaurants to pubs and bars. The streets of Nashville beckoned us to explore, and though we longed to stay longer, our journey urged us to keep moving.
Next, we ventured to Kansas City, where we were once again captivated by the unique experiences and sights the city had to offer. As we left Kansas City, news reached us of snowstorms sweeping through the Eastern and Southern parts of the USA. The Eastern storm, brewing around New York and Washington, was moving westward, while the Southern storms were heading north. Aware of the challenging conditions driving through snowstorms in the Colorado mountains, we felt a sense of urgency to continue our journey. Nervous and apprehensive, we drove from Kansas City to Denver and across to Salt Lake City, covering 7 to 9 hours each day, only pausing briefly to rest at night. Though we yearned to explore the attractions along the way, we knew it was crucial to keep moving. Surprisingly, we always managed to stay one step ahead of the storm, as if guided by an unseen force.
Somewhere between Denver and Salt Lake City, amidst the vast expanse of the road, I received a call from my dad's caregiver in Sri Lanka. My 85-year-old father had been living with me in Canada for many years but had recently gone back to his beloved homeland in October 2023 to spend six months reconnecting with his roots. He was having the time of his life, reuniting with old friends, exploring new places, and basking in the warmth of the sun. The call came in the middle of the night, Sri Lankan daytime, informing me that my dad had fallen seriously ill and had been rushed to the hospital. The symptoms pointed towards a stomach hemorrhage, a condition he had experienced multiple times in the past. Being thousands of miles away, my heart sank with worry. Here I was, in the midst of a cross-country journey, reveling in every moment, despite the underlying anxiety of impending snowstorms. I longed to be by my dad's side, to comfort him, and yet, I also yearned to hold my daughter's hand as she brought new life into the world. Torn between two worlds, I struggled to make a decision, knowing that either choice would be filled with regret. It was in this moment of inner turmoil that I believed a higher power had a plan for me.
My daughter, sensing my inner conflict, urged me to go be with my dad. With heavy hearts, my husband and I made the decision to book flights back home. The closest international airport was in Seattle, still a considerable distance away. The approaching storm added an extra layer of difficulty to our journey. The last leg of our trip was treacherous, and though we stopped for the night, the weather forecast warned of a severe storm that would make it impossible to pass through the mountain and reach the Seattle area by morning. Meanwhile, my dad's condition deteriorated rapidly. His blood count plummeted dangerously low, and our video calls became increasingly difficult as he slipped into unconsciousness. Exhausted from sleepless nights and consumed by worry, we pressed on, monitoring both the road conditions and my daughter's progress towards labor.
Miraculously, morning arrived, and a fellow traveler pointed us in the direction of a route he had taken the previous night, assuring us that it was passable. Taking a leap of faith, we embarked on the journey. Ten hours later, we arrived in Seattle, just moments before the storm unleashed its full fury. That night, I watched my dad's valiant struggle for survival. Tragically, he suffered a stroke and passed away a few hours before our flight.
We arrived in Sri Lanka after a long 30-hour flight. The funeral took place two days later, exactly as my dad had wished. My son flew in from Toronto with my mom's ashes, which he had held onto for five years, as they wanted to be buried together in Sri Lanka. It had always been my dad's desire to pass away in Sri Lanka and have his funeral in the church where he grew up, surrounded by his family and friends. His wish was granted, and we laid him to rest in our family burial grounds together with my mom's ashes. They were reunited once again.
Meanwhile, my daughter was still holding on. Three days after the funeral, we boarded another 30-hour flight, landed in Seattle, picked up the car we had left at the airport, and drove to Vancouver. One week after our arrival in Vancouver, my daughter gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, 10 days later than her expected due date. We were right there beside her, sharing in the joyous moment.
As I held my granddaughter in my hands, I felt a whirlwind of emotions. Happiness, sadness, and anger all mingled together, making it difficult to comprehend the rapid succession of events that had taken place in such a short span of time. In the following weeks, I experienced moments of both tears and laughter. It was a strange sensation to be so happy and yet so sad simultaneously. I couldn't believe that my dad had suddenly passed away, and at the same time, my granddaughter had entered the world so unexpectedly. I was angry with myself for not being by my dad's side in his final moments and for agreeing to let him go to Sri Lanka for such a long period of time. But I also found solace in the knowledge that his final months had been filled with happiness, and his wish to pass away in Sri Lanka had been fulfilled. I rode a rollercoaster of emotions, shifting between sadness, happiness, anger, and back again. It felt like an endless cycle of emotional waves, dragging me along.
However, with time, I learned that it's okay to let emotions come and go. I don't always need to have control over my feelings. I decided to focus on the wonderful things that fell into place, creating a beautiful outcome. My dad passed away peacefully, without much suffering. I was guided through snowstorms so that I could reach my destination and fly out in time. I returned just in time to witness the birth of my granddaughter. Sometimes, I don't have all the answers as to how everything aligned so perfectly, but I am grateful and content that it did. Life is a journey filled with a range of emotions, both good and bad. We must ride the waves, knowing that storms will come, but they will also pass. There will be times when sadness overwhelms us, but if we can push through, there will always be sunshine waiting on the other side.
Sharmila Perera is a Certified Immigration Specialist. Her professional mission is to provide as many people as possible the chance to immigrate to Canada. She works with companies struggling with labor shortages to locate great talent from across the globe and successfully immigrate them to Canada. Her personal mission is to live life to the fullest in every possible way. www.annarbour.com
