There are dreams you carry with you for years. Not loud, not insistent, but always there somewhere. A campsite in Italy was that kind of dream for us. A few years ago we were already on the verge of going. The situation at home meant we parked the dream. And now, years later, we're going after all.
But the circumstances are different from what we'd hoped for.
Why now
We both work in the hospitality industry, it's our life. But the work we've been doing lately felt less and less like our own. Guests coming to pick up a key and hand it back in. Limited contact, little atmosphere, few people around you. While that, taking care of people who are on holiday, is exactly what gives us energy.
We wanted that feeling back. And if you're going to take a step anyway, then you might as well head straight for the place where this dream of ours has been lying for years. Not right away with our own campsite, but first working a season at Villa Alwin Beach Resort in Le Marche, the region where we're looking for something. From there we'll see. Whether we find a place of our own, or whether we end up discovering that life there isn't for us after all, everything is still open.
"At this point in our lives, this is the right moment. We know that for sure. But easy it is not."
The timing that doesn't fit
Geert's mother has changed over the past few years. Her memory is failing her more often, to the point where she can no longer live at home. She now lives in a new, familiar environment, has found a lovely home, and is surrounded by people who love her. His father is there. His brothers are there. She gets lots of visits and she loves it.
But we're leaving. And that feels conflicted.
Saying goodbye has become different because of it. You can't just tell her you're going to Italy for half a year, because that kind of information, that timespan, that distance, it doesn't land the way it used to. It only causes unease. What you can do is be there in a different way: regular video calls so she sees your face, and making sure the people around her know how best to handle it.
A few years ago, when we had these plans before, she was happy for us. She was secretly also relieved that it didn't happen then, but she knew it was a dream and she wanted us to follow it. She still says it now, on good days: go and do fun things.
It's sad that we can't really share this dream with her anymore.
Letting go without letting go
What has helped us is the realisation that leaving isn't the same as not being there. We call, we video call, we stay involved in decisions about her care. And the people who are with her every day, who fill her actual daily life, they're just there.
That sense of guilt doesn't disappear just like that. But we've also learned that standing still out of loyalty doesn't help anyone, not her, and not us. You can only be good for others if you're also honest about what you need yourself.
"She still says it herself on good days: go and do fun things. That's what we try to remember."
Proud
Over the past few months we've spent a lot of time together. And what keeps striking us is how positive she stays. How she accepts her situation. How from day one in her new home she connected with everyone around her and gave the atmosphere there a warm boost.
We are proud of her. More than we've ever said out loud.
And maybe that's also a lesson we take with us to Italy. That adapting isn't the same as giving up. That you achieve more with a smile than with resistance. That atmosphere, especially when big things are uncertain, is the most important thing of all.
And now
We've gone. With mixed feelings, but with a clear head. We know why we've gone, we know what we've left behind, and we know it's well taken care of.
Daphne & Geert