Coming Home

Tonight, my husband returns from a week-long business trip to Amsterdam. It will be his first time to be home after two long months.

Yes, you read that right. The business trip is just for one week. And he hasn't been home in two months.

Confusing? Okay, I'll explain.

My husband is an expat. He was recently hired by a Singapore employer to join them as a Demo Artist. The weird thing about that is he never applied for the job, nor did we ever plan to relocate to another country. The details would need a separate blog entry to be able to do justice to the beauty of the story, but that's the gist, more or less.

He found himself shuttling back and forth between Manila and Singapore since March this year, for interviews, exhibits, more interviews, and finally the employment confirmation. By the end of July, he found himself in the Lion City, quite alone.

It was a blessing that he was occupied with a number of out-of-the-country trips during his first month. Barely two weeks after he arrived, he and his team went to Malaysia for some training. A week after that, he found himself in Mumbai, India for still more training.

I would keep close tabs on him the entire time he was away -- especially if he was outside Singapore. We probably spent a small fortune on call cards, considering that he wasn't always online. He complained at one point that the return trips always felt empty. He knew he was supposed to be "coming home"...but to what? A foreign land. A hotel room, maybe. Or a flat shared with people he didn't know from Adam.

The places he stayed in held an almost clinical quality about them. It was a halfway house. It was somewhere he could put his things in while he was at work. It was a place where he could catch a few zzzz's, but ironically, would not make him feel refreshed or recharged at all.

The last week of August found me on a Singapore-bound plane. I finally gave in to my husband's increasingly urgent requests to be with him. He said that he found a flat for our family, at last, after weeks of poring over the internet and countless viewing schedules. But he would need my domestic engineering abilities to make it more liveable.

And so I went.

A few days ago, we were chatting online...I, in Singapore, and he, in Amsterdam. He said that this was the first time he felt excited about his return trip. Now, he felt certain that he is, indeed, coming home.

Interestingly enough, I found a beautiful caption in one of my Facebook friend's profiles. He went with his wife to Amsterdam on a pleasure trip, and in one of their photos in that faraway place, he said: "Travel with your soulmate and you'll never miss home."

To a certain degree, that's true. However, if he may allow, I will paraphrase his statement to fit my situation: "Be with your soulmate, and you will ALWAYS be home."

Welcome home, honey.