Part 25 - leaving your heart at the airport

It’s January, 2019. We have had a wonderful Christmas and New Year. My mum came to visit us for the first time in New Zealand since we emigrated in 2011 - it was amazing showing her the country we call ‘home’. We visited a living Maori village, we kayaked at night to see the glow worms in a canyon, we went to the beach, we saw waterfalls (lots of them!), we went shopping (lots of that too) and we spent time and energy on each other. It was so fulfilling to see my 2 year old daughter building her relationship with her nanny. Most of all, it was lovely to just be ... together. To have mum around as part of every day life.

Then comes the inevitable time of having to drop mum back off at Auckland Airport for the long trip back to Wales. This is that pit in your stomach that just won’t go away. This is the dread that you feel when you’re on the way to the airport to pick them up in the first place; knowing that next time you’re here you’ll be dropping them off. This is that ball of fire in your throat which hurts and feels like it will never go away. These are the tears which fall inevitably and consistently and effortlessly because it hurts so deep inside. This is leaving a piece of your heart at Auckland Airport, every time you come back to drop off the most precious pieces of cargo you will ever be connected to. Every. Single. Time.

And yet this is the life we chose. We chose to live 12,000 miles away from the people who complete us. We chose New Zealand. Others are not so fortunate and are separated for a myriad of reasons beyond their control. We chose it. It doesn’t make it hurt any less. And so we look forward to the ‘next times’.

Part 24 - Sometimes I wobble

So much has happened since I last wrote here in 2014:  we've moved house - I've lost count of how many times (pretty common out here when you're renting); we've been back to the UK for a holiday - and my big brother & Lucy's beautiful wedding;  I've had the absolute pleasure of one of my younger brothers living in the same country as me for the past 2.5 years (he was on a work holiday visa); we've continued to work and catch up with friends and generally live life. We've also had our first baby - a little girl who is now 16 months old and the absolute light of our lives. Her smiles and laughter fill our days - and our phone memory. She is also the reason for this post - sometimes I wobble.

Up until she was born I was so confident in my decision to live 12,000 miles away from the people I love the most. Up until she was born I was 100% committed to my new life in New Zealand. Up until she was born I could never see myself going to live back in Wales. I was - and still am - a big believer in the quote 'not all those who wander are lost' ... I actually have this quote framed in my house.

And then she arrived - a beautiful, healthy 8lb bundle of joy, light and love. She rocked our world.

So now, sometimes, I wobble. I think about everyone who we're denying her access to - and everyone who loves her so much from so far away, and I wobble. I question 'what if ...?' and 'how can we ...?' and ultimately 'is it still right for us?'

Then we talk about why we emigrated, what we were seeking when we chose NZ, what it means to us - and now to her as well, I look at the support we have around us - people who have our absolute best intentions at heart and are essentially our extended NZ family, and I am comforted. The life she will live here in NZ will be amazing and she is no less loved for living 12,000 miles away.

I'm under no illusion - one day she'll temporarily leave us to do her Overseas Experience (OE) and she'll be thankful to have such a warm, loving family to welcome her on the other side of the world, and UK citizenship of course.

Sometimes I wobble, and that's ok with me.