The “18 Summers” Theory Doesn’t Work on My Family

For those of you who follow me or know me personally, you probably know that I’m Belgian and i moved to the US about 7 years ago. My entire family still lives in Brussels to this day; except for my youngest sister who decided to move to Australia (because apparently Europe simply wasn’t far enough away already.)

We’ve always been an extremely close-knit family. The kind of family that talks constantly, vacations together, shows up for everything, knows everyone’s business, steals fries off each other’s plates, and somehow still genuinely enjoys being together after all these years. Honestly, we’re a little obsessed with each other. Borderline unhealthy? Maybe. But we wouldn’t change a thing.

And I think that’s why those dramatic parenting quotes floating around online never really resonate with me. You know the ones: “You only have 18 summers with your child.”

Listen, I understand the sentiment. Time absolutely flies. Childhood is precious. And after high-school there is a high chance they will leave the nest and schedules will become unpredictable. But respectfully? I’m in my 40s and I still call my mom every single day. Sometimes multiple times a day. Sometimes for important life advice, and sometimes to discuss things as critical as what she made for dinner or whether a celebrity “did something weird to their face.”

My sister has three daughters, one of them is in college and another in high school, and they still happily come on family vacations and attend every family outings without being dragged there against their will. We still pile into houses together, overlap conversations, annoy one another, laugh until we cry, and spend entirely too much time together. It’s loud, chaotic, and wonderful.

So it goes without saying: living an ocean apart from my family is HARD. Truly hard.

And don’t even get me started on raising a child without having your own family around. There are moments when I would give anything to have my family nearby for the little everyday things, spontaneous coffee runs, helping when our son is sick, sitting around the kitchen talking about absolutely nothing. Thankfully, my mom is able to come visit us twice a year and stays for about six to seven weeks at a time, which honestly feels like the biggest luxury in the world. And on the other side, we make sure to go back to Europe once or twice a year ourselves.

Because of that, our son, at only four years old, already speaks and understands French fluently, which makes my little Belgian heart ridiculously emotional. Watching him communicate with his aunts, uncles, and cousins in their native language feels like watching pieces of our worlds stay connected despite the distance.

I’m sure some of you deeply miss your family too, even if they only live a few states away. Distance is distance when the people you love aren’t part of your everyday life.

I still hold onto this completely unrealistic hope that somehow, in an alternate timeline, we’ll all eventually end up living on the same street again someday (Yes, we’re that crazy).

But truly, I’m so incredibly grateful for technology that lets us FaceTime across oceans, for reasonably decent airfare that makes these visits possible, for healthy bodies able to travel back and forth, and above everything else… for my family.