The Little Things From Home You Did Not Know You Would Miss
I also notice the missing thing is seldom a luxury.
Picture a couple named Joan and Frank. They have lived abroad for eight months. They love the bread, the markets and the long lunches. Then one afternoon Joan stands in a supermarket aisle holding a jar of something she has never seen, and says, "I would pay anything for a plain bowl of the cereal I grew up with."
Frank laughs. He understands. Last week he spent twenty minutes looking for a certain brown sauce.
I think this is one of the most human parts of moving. It comes from the small, daily comforts that were so ordinary at home that we never named them.
What people describe
| Place | What is missed, or how people cope |
|---|---|
| Croatia | A writer lists thrift stores among the things she misses from America. It is not a food, but it is the same kind of longing: a little pleasure that was always there. |
| North Macedonia | The advice from one person: buy the imported yoghurt when you see it. It may not be there next week. |
| Germany | A British household keeps an emergency cupboard of British food, said with a wry smile. |
| Czechia | Granola bars shipped from home, and a good-humored sigh about it. |
| Hungary | A retiree misses her dancing. Clubs for older people exist, but it is not the same. |
| Ireland | Someone carried a pressure canner across the sea, because the comfort of putting up her own food was worth the weight. |
How I read this
What stands out to me is that nobody is complaining about the country. They are being fond of the things they left. In several of these accounts a smile sits right next to the longing.
I also notice the missing thing is seldom a luxury. A yoghurt. A cereal. A dance. A canner. These are habits, and habits are how a day feels like your own.
There is a second lesson. The people who seem happiest are the ones who do two things at once. They keep a small cupboard of the old life, and they let a new one grow beside it. The British cupboard in Germany is not a rejection of Germany. It is a place to stand while the new tastes arrive.
And sometimes the missing thing turns out to be replaceable. A new dance, a local jar, a different brand that becomes the favorite. But not always. The Hungary dancer is honest: it was not the same.
Here is how Joan might put it.
"I found the cereal," Frank says.
"Where?"
"A shop across town. It cost a lot more than it should."
"Buy two."
You could…
- Write a short list of the ten small things you use every week, and mark the ones that matter.
- Pack one box of comforts, not ten.
- Look for the local version of the thing you miss before you order from home.
- Find a group that does the activity you loved, even if it is not exactly the same.
What small thing from home do you think you would miss first?
Tell us in the comments