Grief from afar: when the heart lives in two places

Living abroad has many facets. There's the excitement of starting over, discovering new cities, building your own life, but there's also the part that's almost never talked about: the pain of not being there.

Grief from a distance is different. It's no less profound, but it is quieter. More solitary.

When something happens at home an illness, a loss, a difficult time time and distance become more than just physical distance. They become a constant feeling of not being there, of not being where you should be, of living with a divided heart.

In my case, I experienced it with my mom and best friend.

When you have to choose between two lives

My mother got cancer while I was living in Spain. And suddenly, everything I had built here had to be put on hold.

I decided to go back for a while to be with her, to support her, to do what I felt I had to do. But that decision, although necessary, wasn't easy. Because it also meant leaving my life in Spain: my routine, my job, my projects, my independence.

It was like living between two realities.

Then I returned to Spain for two months, trying to get my life back on track. But nothing was the same. The news, the uncertainty, the distance—everything felt heavier. Being away at times like these isn't just difficult: it's emotionally exhausting.

And in the end, I went back once more. This time, for a month. To say goodbye.

And although it sounds harsh, that last month was also a gift.

The Importance of Being There

Amidst all the pain, being able to be present in that final moment was profoundly valuable. Being able to accompany, talk, share, even in the midst of suffering, there is something very human and necessary in that closure.

Sometimes, when we live abroad, we think that we won't always be able to be there for the important moments. And it's true, it's not always possible. But when it is, everything changes.

It allows you to experience grief in a different way. More consciously. More connected.

The Importance of a Support Network

If there's one thing I learned in this whole process, it's that you can't go through this alone.

When you're far from your family, your support network is redefined. Your friends stop being just friends: they become your chosen family. They are the ones who hold you up when you can't go on anymore, who listen when you need to talk (even if you repeat the same thing a thousand times), who accompany you in the everyday when everything feels heavy inside.

Having people close by who are there for you, who understand you, or who simply offer their support makes a huge difference.

Because grieving from afar isn't just sadness. It's also loneliness. And that loneliness, when shared, weighs less.

Moving on isn't forgetting

There's a misconception about grief: that "moving on" means leaving things behind. And that's not the case.

Moving on, especially when you're far away, is learning to integrate the pain into your daily life. It's continuing with your life knowing that a part of you will always be connected to that moment, that person, that place.

It's getting up, working, going out, laughing, and feeling at the same time.

It's accepting that you can feel good and bad simultaneously.

Speaking up in time

If this experience has taught me anything, it's a very clear certainty: saying "I love you" can't wait.

We need to tell our families what we feel. We need to forgive, let go, and heal wounds while there's still time. Because in the midst of pain, the only thing that truly matters is what was said, what was shared, what was experienced together.

And that, even in the most difficult moments, also heals.

Living abroad is also about this.

At Nomadesco, we talk a lot about paperwork, moving, and adapting, but we also want to talk about what goes unseen.

Because emigrating isn't just a logistical decision. It's an emotional one.

And within that experience, grief in any of its forms is a reality that many live in silence.

If you're going through something like this, don't isolate yourself. Surround yourself with support. Talk. Ask for help. You don't have to handle everything.

And above all: don't demand that you experience this in a "correct" way.

Every process is unique.

But if one thing is certain, it's that, even from afar, you are not alone.