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We’re used to kids moving overseas, but what about when our parents leave us?

Kim Wilson

Instead of a present for my dad’s birthday this year, I sent him a letter. My gift was a walk down a memory lane of cherished childhood moments and a collection of the quirky things I love about him.

Birthdays are bittersweet. I’m grateful to still have Dad around at 81, but they’re also a reminder of how few we have shared since his career in the TV industry took him to Los Angeles more than 30 years ago.

I was in my late teens at the time and thought it was incredibly glamorous. He lived in Beverly Hills and worked on Melrose Place, one of the most popular shows of the 1990s. He met and married my stepmother soon after, and they built a beautiful home and life together. Sadly, it’s a life that has kept him permanently in the US, even after retirement.

Kim Wilson with her father, Barry Wilson, whose career includes credits on TV shows such as Melrose Place.

It’s common for adult kids to fly the coop and seek new experiences and careers overseas, but it’s less usual for parents to move so far away, for so long, to pursue their passions. Psychologist Sabina Read says the impact of a parent moving away from a child often depends on the child’s age at that time, the reasons for the move and, most importantly, the ongoing levels of communication and interaction.

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“A lot of people would be quick to judge and say that an absent parent spells negative outcomes for the relationship and the child’s development, but there are so many nuances,” she says.

It was only when I started my own family that the distance from Dad really hit home. I couldn’t just jump on a flight – it was too far, too expensive and tricky with kids in tow. Until a couple of years ago, he came home twice a year to see me, my sister and his six grandchildren, but a degenerative muscle disease is now compromising his mobility, and he can no longer travel long distances. He will almost certainly never step on home soil again. And so, we have all learnt to live with the consequences of that fateful decision all those years ago.

I’ve been privileged never to have doubted Dad’s love and support.

It’s been tough, and sad at times, but I understand why he felt compelled to chase his professional passion and I’m proud of all he’s accomplished. His courage and determination to dream big, from a humble upbringing in small-town Victoria to the bright lights of Hollywood, have inspired me and will surely inspire future generations.

In my middle age, I realise you can’t live your whole life for your children.  And while there have been countless downsides, there have been just as many benefits to Dad’s absence.

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Read says physical proximity doesn’t automatically guarantee close and meaningful relationships, and that intentional communication is more critical than seeing a parent regularly. “We can live in the same city and never see them, or we can fall into a routine and take our parents for granted because they’re just around the corner,” she says.

When Dad and I catch up, we talk endlessly, openly, humorously and with affection. We FaceTime at least once a week and regularly share photos and funny emails. My kids have built their own connections with their pa, mainly through text messages. And they love family trips to visit when time and budget allow.

“When you’re with him, you plan on time together being well spent,” Read says. “Because it’s got a beginning and an end, you can attend to it more mindfully and purposefully.”

Despite the geographic distance, we are incredibly close. In late 2021, I booked the first Qantas flight out of Melbourne after COVID-19 restrictions eased. It was overwhelming to finally see him after being apart for two years.

There are images scattered throughout my camera roll of Dad from over the years, more photos than most families would probably take if they saw their parents regularly. I’ve been privileged never to have doubted Dad’s love and support. I see his sense of adventure, determination, curiosity, kindness and creativity in my beautiful children, and I’m thankful for everything he has done for me, from near and far.

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Do I wish Dad hadn’t chosen to live so far away? Yes. Do I think he sometimes regrets missing out on time with his daughters and grandchildren? Absolutely. But no life or person is perfect. We all make decisions that have enduring impacts. And while Dad has been physically distant, he could not be closer in my heart. Long after he is gone, his spirit will live on in moments like this one, shared with him in my birthday letter to him.

“At the end of a yoga class, we lie flat on our backs in stillness in a position called savasana. The goal is to release tension in each part of the body. Dad, I often think of you in this pose. Of those nights when you used to pick me up from Nanny and Pa’s after you and Mum had been out. I would be lying in my sleeping bag on cushions on the floor in their lounge room. You would come in and lift me, placing me so gently and lovingly in the car. I can remember you carrying the full weight of my body and never having ever felt safer.”

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