In Richard Bach’s book There’s No Such Place As Far Away, the author asks, “Can miles truly separate you from friends… If you want to be with someone you love, aren’t you already there?” Google AI – AI has its uses – interprets this as meaning that “true bonds transcend physical distance through mental and emotional presence.” Okay, to a point I will grant you that there is some truth in that, even if on the face of it we’re into the world of gobbledegook. Many of my close relatives and family members live across the pond and while we are rarely together physically, they remain relatives and family members, part of my life, thoughts and emotions. And technological innovations like the mail service, the telephone and latterly the internet have made the world appear much smaller. But in answer to Bach’s question, my answer is no.
When my father emigrated to Canada in the 1960s, the family was obviously more stretched. To his great credit, he maintained close links with his family and friends and returned to visit on a regular basis. I offer no criticism of his decision to emigrate, either. He had found love across the pond after his marriage to my mother failed and followed that love, as one should. But it meant that I rarely saw him or my new Canadian family, which included two half-brothers and, later, a stepmother. Miles did separate us, despite our only tool of communication, the letter (we did not acquire a home telephone until the mid 1970s), and I did feel I missed out.
Similarly, my maternal family all lived in the Netherlands, so I would see them no more than once a year when my mother took me there for the whole summer. As we did not have a phone and I never learned to write in Dutch, communication was all but impossible. The distance across the North Sea was obviously far less than across the Atlantic Ocean, but they might as well have been living on the moon. For all my life, I believed the opposite of Bach’s book title because in my life there is definitely a place as far away.
People migrate all the time. I know people who have emigrated to places near and far, to Canada, America, Japan, Australia to name but a few and others have moved to places far nearer, like Spain, Italy, France and Greece. Their reasons range from seeking a different lifestyle and challenge in life to simply seeking the sun. Well, you only have one life, so why not get out there and live it? I suppose that is who you are and what you want out of life.
An old friend of mine has a number of children, two of whom live ‘down under’ and they see them perhaps once every few years. They keep in touch by way of video calls and other forms of internet messaging, but these will only ever be virtual hugs and kisses. For me, that is never enough and never could be enough.
It has been a source of constant dread that my own children, both adults now, would seek their fortune abroad, perhaps falling in love with an Australian person and leaving Old Blighty for good. I would never seek to obstruct their wishes and ambitions but the feeling of missing them would be all-consuming. I am not sure how I would deal with their near permanent absence.
At one time, many years ago, I thought briefly of moving permanently to the sun, say in Spain, as many British migrants have done over the years. I am of course well used to the miserable British maritime climate, but my life is here, almost everything I love and like is here, from loved ones, liked ones, record shops, British beer and cider, good cheese, Sainsbury’s, book shops. The list goes on forever. There are many things I would like to change in my country and my life but still home is where the heart is and it’s where the bulk of my family and friends can be found. The permanent sunshine is no substitute for the love of family and friends.
In my ideal world, I would be able to cross the pond regularly because seeing my loved ones maybe a few times in a decade just isn’t enough. However, my doddery old pensioner bus pass does not provide free or even reduced cost Transatlantic travel. Video calls and emails it is, then.
Richard Bach’s world is more ethereal and spiritual than mine. I value presence above spirit, which I regard as more of an emotion than anything tangible, the being with the people you love rather than essentially having to use your imagination. But hey, it takes all sorts, doesn’t it. If FaceTime and What’s App is enough for you, then who am I to you are wrong?
The world is smaller than it used to be but you can’t change how you measure distance. And just because you want to be with the people you love doesn’t, sadly, mean you are already there. I mean, it might be okay for Richard Bach, and maybe even you, dear reader, but as Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell once sang, ain’t nothing like the real thing. And that means being there.
