Thank You

I took the train in to Sokolov Sunday night to spend my last evening with the Simetovi, the first of the many goodbyes I would say during the following week. It was like any other time I visited them in terms of the comfortable interaction and conversation, except every one of us was exhausted. Jana had just arrived from a month in Sardinia early that morning, Jara had spent the same month caring for Karolina on his own, and I had gotten very little sleep in between accompanying friends to the airport at early hours and preparing for my own departure.

Karolina, of course, didn’t understand that this was the last time that she would see me, at least for a while. She was still overcome with joy at Jana’s return from Sardinia, Karolinka’s first experience with being apart from someone involved in her everyday life. So, she acted as usual… made me “tancit” (dance), fussed about having to brush her teeth, dressed me up in her winter hats, and beat me over the head with the bear I gave her that she still stubbornly calls by the wrong name.

When it was time for her to go to bed, Jana and Jara explained to her that she wouldn’t see me for a long time, and I begged her for a hug goodnight. Immediately, she ran at me, wrapped her arms around me, laid her head on my shoulder and squeezed for a good long minute. Jana was shocked, admitting that she never did that with anyone else besides them, and I rocked her back and forth almost in tears until she tore herself away and grabbed Jana’s hand to go to the bedroom. I couldn’t believe how much she had grown and changed over the year that I had known her, and I tried not to think about how much she would have changed by our next meeting, as she innocently waved goodnight until the door closed behind her.

I sat with Jara in the kitchen and visited for a good hour before Jana emerged, but it felt forced and odd to be talking about such trivial things simply to avoid the obvious truth that I was about to leave. I had to make the last train to Cheb, where I was staying with Lena, so Jara offered to accompany me to the train station. I hugged Jana goodbye with many kisses and promises to write and got a big hug from Jara at the station, where he obediently waited and waved until I was out of sight.

I’m fairly sure I’ll see them again, but I’ve also learned that things don’t always work out like you expect them to, especially when time and distance so ardently work against your sincere intentions. Still, I wanted to express to them how much my time with them had meant to me and to thank them for all of their kindness, even during sometimes uncomfortable circumstances.

But, what do you say to someone in a moment like that that doesn’t sound cliché? “Thank you” simply doesn’t seem sufficient. “Thank you for everything” sounds too vague, though that’s the most concise way to say what I wanted to. Thank you for housing me, for feeding me, for sharing your family with me, for letting me watch your daughter grow up, for helping me, for loving me, for being my friends.

But, “Thank you for everything” doesn’t imply everything that I would want to express. How do you thank someone for the things that don’t always sound like things you should be thankful for? Thank you for “kicking me out” of your house, for sometimes making me feel culturally awkward, for laughing at my Czech inability, for telling me your secrets, and for letting me see a side of your family that most will never witness. These were the things that, while often difficult to recognize in the moment, ultimately became blessings and allowed me to know you better, to serve you better, and to be a better friend to you.

Thanks for being honest with me, for being real in a most “real” sort of way. Thanks for letting me know you.

In a nutshell: “Děkuju mnohokrat za všechno. Vlastně, děkuju”.