Keep on keepin' on

One year ago today it was confirmed our lives were to change for the unforeseeable future. We had plans to go to the pub that evening for a last “hurrah” before death loomed, but chose against it. We had warnings...from Italy, from Spain...about what awaited us but no one could be prepared for what unraveled. Everything that consisted of our daily life was stripped away - queuing to buy groceries, no doctors appointments (more than a year and counting for me - I need regular blood tests due to my under active thyroid), no pubs, eating out, live gigs, theatre, sports events, travel, no hugs, seeing friends, and loved ones. No freedom. Everything that is essential and had been a fabric to our beings all stripped away in a single moment. For a global citizen, it was a horrendous feeling.  

And then the deaths...mere weeks into it, we lost our friend who worked in a shop 2 doors down from us. Death, surrounding and suffocating us. I didn’t want to leave the house, even for the allotted exercise or grocery shopping as everyone presented a  danger. Lockdown 1.0 - we buckled down, we video messaged friends and there was an air of triviality to it. Zoom pub quizzes became the norm - a welcome distraction from the horror. Reuniting with school mates - everyone was in the same boat...for a short while.  

We moved to the coast for more space and respite...turned out to be the worst infected area in the entire nation. Just our luck. We hermited, we saw very few people over the course of a year, gave probably 5 hugs with masks on and held breath.

My super precious (handicapped) brother spent 9 days in intensive care, fighting for his life and he somehow managed to fight off Covid, pneumonia and all sorts of other side effects. I called the hospital every day fearing the worst only to hear these incredible, incredible nurses tell me it was a pleasure caring for him. I thanked them in tears every phone call. Thank God for the NHS or just thank the NHS!! Insane heroes.  

 

Many countries moved on, and we were stuck in the horror of the daily death tolls...then Captain Tom - a shining light, bringing hope to a hopeless nation, fell to the evil virus himself.  

 

Over 125,000 deaths+. Soooo much grief, so much sorrow. Shared, as a nation. As a world. I don’t know anyone who hasn’t been adversely affected by this evil monster. Covid. And then lies have been spread about our only shimmer of hope - the vaccines. Samuel and many others have had the Oxford-AstraZeanica vaccine and they're alive. protected and well. This thing is more than real and the only way out is the vaccine, unless you’re happy to live in a bubble for the rest or your lives. Embrace every moment, cherish life and tell your loved ones how you feel.

We are now over 4 months into Lockdown 3.0 and are counting our lucky stars because we are ALIVE. ✨

For Smokey...

It's been one year today since we blew up our London lives and decided to give everything up (including the best cat ever) to travel and experience the world again. I’ve given up countless houses and cats over the years but these were finally my very own. There has been severe heartache, regret, soul-searching and sleepless nights. I didn’t know how heart breaking giving up my own home (finally and against our will) would be. For a TCK especially, it was devastating. Some days I’m still reeling from that...overcome by a deep sadness, and that’s okay. It’s more that we didn’t get to enjoy the finished article before putting it on the market that was, and still is, deeply painful. Our blood, sweat, tears and laughter are all over that flat. It was our home.

And yet, the world is my second home and I will always feel a sense of belonging to remote corners of this great planet. Which is where we find ourselves today. The Gili islands of Indonesia...I was first here 15 years ago with Ben and parts of my spirit are scattered all over this beautiful nation, full of smiling people. 

We worked bloody hard to save up for this trip, but as every TCK knows, you’re always sacrificing something. In many ways we are rich; we have traversed this planet to the point of exhaustion this past year. 20 countries, 42 flights, 67 beds. We have seen great things and felt flashes of true happiness. We have felt alive and wanted more of this free, bohemian lifestyle. But today of all days, it’s important to take stock of what we left behind. And shed a tear. For Smokey...

Goodbye Lorena

Last week I was devastated to learn of the passing of an incredibly beautiful, unique and precious soul and dear friend. She helped me invaluably with "Home Keeps Moving" and was one in a million. She was a free spirit. May you rest in peace Lorena. You are, and will forever be missed 

Her forward for my book:

Foreword by Lorena Smith 

"I grew up much like Heidi, hovering between several cultures, travelling often, struggling with faith and questions of identity, home, and belong- ing. My mother is Swedish, my Dad Sri Lankan, and my schooling was all over the place, partly at Hebron School in India, partly in Sweden, partly in the US. To complicate matters more, I married a TCK from Ecuador/El Salvador, with roots in California. We’ve lived everywhere from Romania to the UK to Connecticut. 

As our world grows smaller and smaller, the tribe that is TCK’s and ATCK’s grow larger and larger. And yet the questions still remain for most of us: Where do we belong? How do we fit in? In a world where people put cultural identity and national citizenship in the premier place of personal identity, where are we? 

As I read Heidi’s book, I was so struck by the way in which I identified and recognized myself in her descriptions and analysis of TCK’s. Her story, in some measure, is the story of every TCK, whether missionary kid, or army brat, or diplomat kid, or anyone else. 

If you are a TCK, you will recognize yourself and, as I did, breathe a sigh of relief that your experiences and feelings are, after all, universal. If you are a par- ent, please read this book so you can know what we are and will be going through. And if you are anyone else, those who love us, our friends or coworkers, please read it, because it expresses things we are often hard pressed to put into words. 

On the whole, the lives we live, the places we go, and the things we see, teach us that people are peo- ple everywhere. As you read this book, one of my dearest hopes is not only that you will understand this tribe we call TCK’s but that you will also decide to experience what we have—new cultures, new homes, and new people and discover our world. 

We will probably run into you somewhere along the way, in Lebanon, Latvia, or London. Come say hello."  💔 

G

 Painting: "The Dreamer" by Alain J. PicardH


H

HKM GIVEAWAY!!

I'm doing a house clear-out and have copies of Home Keeps Moving with *slight* minimal imperfections but would hate to throw them away. If anyone wants a free signed copy and is happy to pay postage, please email me at: homekeepsmoving@gmail.com 

:)

Lost thoughts....

This was written some FIVE years ago and I still find myself in London....and the sentiments have amplified in that time. More on that later....

For quite some time now, I have had a strongly negative reaction to returning "home" at rhe end of a day. I always jokeingly call it my prison but there is quite some truth to that. I am locked behind its bars from morning to late afternoon without anything to do, anything to live for. I feel helplessly trapped with no vision or drive. They call it "writers block"...well, I have been suffering from that for close to 19 months now. Ever since I finished my first book, I have been turned off writing like never before. The thing I keep coming back to is that I am completely and absolutely UNINSPIRED in my every day life so how can I hope to breath life to a new work? If one isn't happy and content with their surroundings, then how can art blossom?

That is the bottom line. I am not happy. I have dreams and goals for my life but don't seem any nearer to attaining them. Every year is but  mere reminder of the fact that I am no closer in reaching them.

My heart aches for the unloved, the neglected, the unwanted yet here I sit in my comfortable Western "castle" wasting day after day. I need to go. I need to do something.

I used to resent this restlessness that came as a result of my upbringing but now I have come to love and cherish it. For it is the marker that tells me when I am not fulfilling the goals I should and it continues to awake me from the Western slumber that doesn't even suit me. It does not let me rest. It does not let me lie.

Strange, small world

Having remained quite disconnected from the internet in connection to Home Keeps Moving recently, it was quite startling to come across this today. Shame they got some of the details wrong but hey...the internet is a weird and wonderful place! Enjoy and Happy New Year! ;)

More from me soon, I promise...

It's okay to like where you live...

I wrote a guest blog post for a local website on why I love where we live in London. Check it out:

Falling In Love With Tooting: A Guest Blog by Heidi Sand-Hart.

I first fell in love with Tooting whilst sitting in Sarashwathy Bavans, enjoying a masala dosa that transported me back to my childhood.

I grew up in South India for five years, surrounded by Tamilians – both Sri Lankan and Indian. The memories conjured up over that dosa made me feel at home and homesick at the same time. Back then my husband and I lived in “white, safe” Southfields and only ventured down Garratt Lane when I needed an “India fix”. More than once we breathed a sigh of relief at leaving the madness of the Broadway which we viewed as quite chaotic at the time.
Merely two years later we were excited Tooting homeowners, primarily due to how much more bang we got for our buck in Toots!


Continue reading here !!