To be sung to a Sarah Vaughan song …. And I can’t remember the name of it but it suddenly just came to me when they told me of their predicament!!!
They hurried through the party
Hurried through farewells
Left before the sun coming up was through
Why did they hurry through the party
And hurry through farewells
To leave some time for dawdling
To find the barge in Darwin is cancelled now
I feel like my husband has been having an affair for the last six months.
He has been conducting secret telephone calls in a way that women always know is leading to something. He has been constantly emailing elusive and mysterious people to set up endless rendezvous in exotic locations throughout the world. Do not underestimate the amount of time, energy and effort my husband has spent in nurturing this affair. He has investigated, researched and collected every conceivable gadget the 21st century can offer him to ensure that the whole world knows about his new fancy.
Half way through the party, no idea why, it suddenly dawned on me. we were not going to see any of these people, all so dear to us, for half a year. We were going to just be gone. No puff of smoke, no ’shazzam’ - just an absence.
I cried. Saying goodbye, to Jan, my parents, family, good friends, the dog…. once I started, I couldn’t hold back.
And today, we packed the car with plastic tubs full of… well, I am not even sure what anymore. But I am certain it was all terribly important when it went in there.
And now the reality bites. I confess to feeling profound guilt that we are heading off on this incredible indulgence - and Jan will wave us goodbye. I feel selfish beyond words.
We’ve started saying goodbye to people. I suppose this means that we’re leaving soon. Proper goodbyes always hurt just a little. They are such double edged swords. On one side they’re an acknowledgement of the exciting future, on the other side they’re an acknowledgement of how sad it will be to leave. I’ve been lucky enough to travel a fair bit, and I’m sure the things we’re seeing will overshadow our home sickness, but it will always linger. I’ll miss things like cricket on TV and the guy at the videoshop who tells me when a new season of Scrubs is in. I’ll miss my friends and the people you bump into around town, I’ll miss my brother complaining about his knee after football on a Saturday. I’ll miss Triple J on my radio.
Yes, I know that the experience gained outweighs any losses, but just because you’re seeing amazing things doesn’t mean you’re not missing the little things that make your life ‘yours’. It’s just a little scary to leave something behind that you know so well. I suppose I’m kind of saying ’see you soon!’ to myself. Or perhaps I’m just feeling the wrong side of the sword…?
The departure is imminent and of course there has to be a party to celebrate. Jan, the designated Events Manager, left for New Zealand to escape the six month long conversation about THE TRIP.
In her absence, I organised a committee that was set-up to organise the farewell party.