Mum and Dad left this morning.
For the past few days I have really tried not to think about their impending departure but found myself silently shedding tears anyway. Mainly late at night when everyone was in bed.
The shuttle was late, and we all paced around inside and outside the house, waiting. Trying not to think about the fact that it will be months and months until we see each other again, the date not yet determined. Trying to hang onto the last remaining moments we had together.
Trying not to cry.
When the shuttle finally arrived, the heaviness I felt – knowing that they were actually leaving now – almost crushed me.
“No tears ok.” Mum said, solemnly. I nodded. She kissed me and we hugged for a long time.
Dad hugged me and gave me several pats on the back. His sunglasses hiding his eyes.
“See you next week!” I called after them as they boarded the shuttle.
“Next week?”
“Let’s pretend?” I’m so grateful they didn’t hear my voice wobbling.
They climbed inside and took their seats. Lots of kisses were blown and received. The doors closed, and I couldn’t see them through the tinted glass. I couldn’t see them anymore. I still stood there, waving, smiling and blowing kisses. I stood there until the shuttle disappeared around the corner.
The house feels empty. It’s such a classic statement, but it is wholeheartedly true. For three weeks we’ve had family staying with us. In our small, cramped and hot little home. There were definitely days where I wanted my house back, sick of sharing the little double sofa bed in the office with Simon. Our bodies so long and too big for the tiny space.
I would now happily sleep on that sofa bed a hundred more times if it meant they could stay with me for even one more night.
Simon once asked me, a year ago perhaps, if there would ever be a day when I wouldn’t cry my eyes out when family left/we left family. I think I replied with “When I can afford to just jump on a plane and go and see them whenever I want.” And I guess that still rings true. But I think I know, deep down inside, that living in a different country without my family will always render me inherently sad.
Growing up, I never thought I could be away from Australia for more than 3 months. I get so homesick for my country, for its beauty, for its people. It will always be my home. Somehow, life and God has led me to a life in America and if it weren’t for the amazing people He has placed around me, then I’m sure I wouldn’t have survived. America is a wonderful country and I love the opportunity it has provided Simon and I. I just wish so bad that Australia would have been able to provide the same wonderful oportunites.
This week Simon and I sign the papers to extend our Visas another three years, and we also start the Green Card process next year.
Without a doubt there are still many more tears to come.
N.B. I start Uni today, officially. I do not intend to neglect this blog and in good time I will recount the amazing Griswold adventure that was just had!
Dolly French 