Stalled . TKG Take Ten . Travel
Leaving is such sweet sorrow? That never ending sorrow of Good Bye. And now I am stalled. Covid has arrived in the house. So after all that; I will unpack my bag for another few days!
The most ruthless part of coming home to see my family is the good bye then another goodbye then another goodbye when I leave again. I say ruthless because I have to be fast with my goodbye, band-aid ripping fast, or I end up a puddle of tears on the door step. From this point on I say hullo and then fast goodbyes all the way up the island. I guess we all do in our daily lives. But when your people are so far away it feels heavier.
Depart with a wistful embrace. An ache. A knowledge of the ever - changing landscape. But taking all these delicious sounds with us. Until we don’t.
Until a day like today when a spanner is thrown into the works. A sick child. A positive covid test for him. And though I am well. I wait. Just as I was prepared to leave, I wait.
I start thinking about it early. Leaving. The leaving. Preparing my body. Mentally talking myself back into a shell. And usually shedding garments into boxes stored for my return. I go lighter and lighter as I move across the world. Leaving stuff behind. By the time I get back to the farm I am floating like Mary Poppins with her carpet bag and an umbrella.
I have looked at this phenomenon (phenomenon? is that the right word? Behaviour? Maybe behaviour is better). I have looked at this behaviour of shedding my clothes and belongings down to bare necessities as I travel homeward. It is a hard behaviour to fight. It happens without planning, I do it every time I travel anywhere and I do wonder about it. I set out with a stuffed cabin bag and a backpack and a crossover and by the time I return the back pack and the crossover are empty and traveling inside the cabin bag.
The friend I visited the other day called to say I left my cashmere scarf at her house. Give it to a homeless person, I said. Though there are not a lot of people sleeping rough on the streets of Wellington. Maybe 50. But I shed that scarf in a minute. Coats come next. Hoodies. Hats. Socks. All left behind in boxes and drawers.
Ah well.
Have a gorgeous morning/afternoon/evening!
Celi
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I wonder if we leave bits and pieces behind so that those who remain do not forget us when the drawer opens and there sits a hat or a shampoo bottle or the summer sandals? I also wonder if we do this because one day we believe we will simply stay there- with the stuff- never to go back to the life we had... So far my only leave behinds are bathroom items at each of my girls homes. I tell myself it is because I don't want to pack toothpaste tabs or bar soap or moisturizer each time...but I wonder
Disappointment must be in our DNA, it is ubiquitous. I'm sorry your long-awaited and planned trip home has hit walls (not snags, walls!) So hard to accept. It's so hard to be grateful for what we doooooo have.