Home-coming

I had been waiting for this for ages. Three months is a long time when its your first year away from home. We were heading up the driveway, lined with daffodils, my favorite flowers. The trees were still bare-leaved and glistened with raindrops, legacy of a cold, wet March. I headed straight for the kitchen and was soon being smothered by two bundles of wagging tails and jet-black fur.

Home-coming. This is the third time now, but it was the most emotional somehow. Even more than the first time. Perhaps it was the length, maybe the stress and exhaustion from the constant hard work. Either way, I can’t remember feeling so ecstatic in a long time. Its one thing to look at their photos, quite another to cuddle them and get covered in licks and stepped on by paws. I think I spent most of the day talking; I had 11 weeks worth of things to say, from the important to the useless. But I couldn’t stop. Excited to share things in person- Skype and phone calls are good but no replacement for the real thing.

Its funny, we are as a family quite used to being apart. Since I was young, we would come and go, spread across the world like human confetti. Make the most of time together, wave goodbye, say hello. Repeat. It was a part of life for me. Sending an email to wish dad a safe flight was a common start to a day, arranging for airport pick-ups for the grandparents another. Moving house, leaving a home, leaving the known. Into the unknown, new life, new start. I learned from a young age that this is how it was- not to sink those roots too deep.

As I got older, goodbyes got a bit easier, I’d be more blasé about leaving a place or someone. I’d no longer cry. But the hellos stayed special.

And they always will be.

Photo credits: mum 🙂