Phuket Opinion: So near, but often so far

PHUKET: I don’t miss real bread and real butter, cheese and steak tartare.

I don’t miss walking my dog through winter’s first snow, skiing in the French Alps or the mountains of the Czech republic. I don’t miss autumn strolls in my local park or the relief of springtime.

I don’t miss the first tulips, young potatoes, fresh raspberries and peaches in the summer. I don’t miss wine, visiting vineyards, attending tastings.

I don’t miss traveling across Europe to see my favorite bands perform live in Berlin or Paris. I don’t miss the empty streets, wide sidewalks. I don’t miss partying with my friends, talking till the early morning.

I don’t miss my mother’s tomato soup or my father’s apple pie.

I don’t miss overcoats, gloves and scarves. I don’t miss weekends by the lake or in the mountains. I don’t miss movie festivals, art exhibitions, university lectures, open air concerts…

I don’t miss any of these things. Not everyday. I’m too busy, consumed by my daily life in Phuket, by my girlfriend and daughter, the beaches, sunny weather, great food and kind people. When one is content there is no time for looking back; happiness is the best cure for nostalgia.

But once in a while it gets to me. Sometimes for almost no reason at all – a sound, a scent, a ray of light brings distant memories, makes me stop, puts me out of balance. Sometimes the reasons are serious. The news from far away is usually really, really good or really, really bad. That’s when I miss home the most. That’s when Facebook and Skype aren’t enough. That’s when I’d like to be closer.

But I made my choice. And it was the right one. I’m good, I’m happy where I am. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t lose something on the way. Nothing comes for free.

I dedicate this to my friend Andrew who passed away a few days ago due to brain cancer. Andrew was one of the most intelligent and optimistic people I know. He’s outlived by his beautiful girlfriend and not yet born child. He was 32 years old. He will be missed.