Home is where the heart is: An expat says goodbye

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An Expat

YEARS flew by in the warm embrace of the city I called home. Never once did I doubt the position this place had established in my heart of being “Home”. They say “home is where the heart is” and now I wonder how I will ever be able to relocate my heart.

This is a farewell letter. A farewell to the city that was my father’s last wish and will always be my first home.

In the past few months, not only did I lose my father but I also lost the right to call this place my home. My vision is flooded with memories. Memories of better times, of happier times. Of times when I wasn’t just an expat, a disposable person. I will always relish the memory of the many Ramadans I spent in this land. I will savor the taste that Al-Baik leaves on my tongue. I will pine for the peace this place offers. My heart will forever be here.

Here’s to the life that my father spent here, here’s to his struggles, to his perseverance, here’s to the city my father called home.

Goodbye and good luck.


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