Popong 13/Brutal Truth

Brutal Truth

4 This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: 5 “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. 6 Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. 7 Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.”
Jeremiah 29:4-7


For some reason, the passage I highlighted speaks to me on a deeply personal level. I, too, was exiled due to economic reasons. I settled in this new country and have lived here for more than half my current age. I thrived in this land, earned a living, and supported the family I left behind. I purchased properties that secured my future, gained investments, and suffered losses. I watched the city and state where I live grow and saw people, both permanent and transient, come and go. However, I did not form a family. My sexuality made that impossible.

As I approach retirement, I plan to spend more time in the country of my birth. Yet, for some reason, the Lord seems to be guiding me to stay rather than leave. The little “family” I have built—comprising my sister and friends like Jim and Matt—are facing medical challenges, and I cannot leave them. Doing so would feel like abandonment, something that would make me miserable. I cannot turn my back on people in need just to chase the dreams my imagination and desires have conjured. Moreover, the job market in my profession continues to provide opportunities with flexible and conducive settings, even if only for shorter hours. I am someone who listens to the whispers of the Lord through the Holy Spirit, and everything points to staying where I am. This is the path I must follow.

At this point in life, what is left for me to desire? I have achieved the dreams I envisioned in my youth. I secured the well-being of the family I left behind, served patients in healthcare settings, earned a respectable living, and saved for my old age. I even built a rental business that provides passive income. I can afford occasional trips, both locally and abroad, yet I find myself content pursuing creativity and enjoyment where I am. I relish my visits to parks, my recent health improvements, and the benefits of my healthy habits.

Yes, I long for my country of birth, but that longing is fueled by the curated images on social media. I see only the polished streets, modern buildings, beautiful beaches, lush forests, and stunning mountains. These pictures ignite my desire to visit and live in such places. But the reality behind those facades is far different. Behind the beauty lies dirty streets, overwhelming crowds, and sensory chaos that I find intolerable. Worse yet, rebuilding relationships with my aging, debilitated siblings and trying to connect with nephews and nieces who are essentially strangers seems daunting.

This is the sad reality and my one regret about thriving abroad while supporting distant relatives. The clearest perspective lies in recognizing who genuinely cares for me—those who would want to share their lives with me. Perhaps a nephew or niece might be willing to come and share my company and friendship. But alas, at this point, I see no one eager to do so—not because they are ungrateful or malicious, but because they, too, feel estranged. It would be awkward for them to suddenly grow close to me.

The real issue lies in the distinction between fantasy and reality in family matters.
The fantasy is that I could return home and have the next generation deeply involved in my life, maintaining my independence while we all live happily ever after. I would rekindle old friendships with those still alive and independent like myself, while also forming new bonds with strangers. But who exactly were my friends back in my hometown? I grew up without anyone truly taking notice of me, and the closest I had to friends now have families of their own. Why would they prioritize reconnecting with me? Even if some people admired my accomplishments, their interest might be motivated by what I could do for them rather than genuine connection.

The reality is that if I return home, the only ones who will likely spend time with me are my siblings—aging and inching toward the ends of their journeys, just like me. The next generation may only engage with me impersonally, such as remotely managing my care, provided I can pay for it.

Brutal honesty reveals a sobering truth: many people like me who dream of a blissful homecoming end up disappointed. How many uncles, aunts, or siblings gave their best years to support fractured families, only to find little to no support when they needed it? Some parents do get a return on their sacrifices through the love and care of their children. But as an uncle? That’s far from certain. This has nothing to do with good or evil but rather human nature. Children naturally prioritize their parents over extended relatives. To imagine otherwise is to set oneself up for disappointment.

What, then, is a realistic goal for someone like me? I now live with people who share similar prospects: my sister, Jim, and Matt. None of us have children. This means we only have each other. My sister and Matt are battling cancer, and I am their most reliable support. Jim is healthy for now, but his habits—smoking, drinking beer, and using weed—worry me. Among the four of us, I am the one most focused on staying as healthy as possible.
These are the reasons I choose to stay. Leaving would likely exacerbate their insecurities. While they are resourceful and would adapt, my absence might lead to feelings of abandonment, which could affect them emotionally. And as I’ve said, returning to a land of vanishing connections to forge relationships with remaining strangers is no better than staying in the comfort I’ve built in my adopted country.

Biblical teachings reinforce this decision for me. The Lord says, “Thrive in your place of exile; be part of its progress.” At my age, returning to my homeland or finding a new place to start over would be akin to re-exiling myself.

Even beyond nostalgia, there are practical considerations. Back home:

There are no nearby libraries or bookstores.

No accessible parks or nature trails for regular exercise.

While food is cheap, it’s not always ideal for managing diabetes.

Air conditioning on my last visit gave me a cold, and I’d likely demand a new unit.

A personal vehicle would be essential.

Here, I have access to reliable medical care covered by insurance, stable utilities, and entertainment options like Netflix and Prime Video. These comforts align with my routines, health goals, and enjoyment.

Ultimately, the truth is clear. Where I am now offers the stability, connections, and quality of life that allow me to thrive. And so, I choose to stay.

ASSESSMENT by AI:


Themes and Reflections:

Sacrifices and Exile:
Leaving one's country for economic survival is a theme that resonates with countless migrants. Your account of securing a future not only for yourself but also for family members left behind highlights the dual burden of personal and familial responsibility.

Building a Life Abroad:
Your achievements, from thriving in your profession to establishing passive income streams and maintaining a healthy lifestyle, are commendable. These are testaments to resilience and adaptability in a foreign environment.

The Complexities of Relationships:
The longing for familial connection juxtaposed with the reality of emotional estrangement speaks volumes about the intricate dynamics of migrant families. The fantasy of returning to a warm embrace is tempered by an honest acknowledgment of the difficulties in rekindling bonds.

Faith and Purpose:
Your reliance on spiritual guidance offers clarity and grounding, guiding your decisions in alignment with your values. The scriptural reference to thriving in exile is particularly poignant, underscoring a sense of divine purpose in staying where you are.

Reality vs. Fantasy:
The candid distinction between the idealized version of "homecoming" and the likely reality is a sobering yet necessary perspective. It prevents disillusionment and sets a realistic foundation for future choices.

The Role of Found Families:
The relationships you’ve cultivated with your sister and friends illustrate the strength and importance of chosen families, especially for those who do not have traditional familial structures due to circumstances like sexuality.

Pragmatic Considerations:
Your detailed evaluation of life in your current country versus the old country reflects a clear and rational thought process:

Health and Aging: Your access to reliable healthcare, healthy habits, and conducive environments for fitness is a major consideration, especially given age-related vulnerabilities.

Lifestyle: The contrast between libraries, nature trails, and utilities points to the convenience and stability of your current life.

Community Support: The emotional and practical support you provide to your sister and friends forms a compelling reason to stay, grounded in empathy and responsibility.
Conclusion:

Your narrative suggests that staying in your adopted country aligns most closely with your values, needs, and the reality of your life circumstances. It recognizes that a return to the homeland, while romanticized, may not provide the fulfillment or stability you currently enjoy. Instead, cherishing and nurturing the "family" you have built, alongside embracing the opportunities and comforts available to you, appears to be the path most aligned with your faith, reasoning, and reality.

This decision is not without sacrifice, but it is imbued with wisdom and a profound understanding of what truly matters: connection, purpose, and peace.
2024-11-24 14:42:23
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