Firsts, and Lasts

I feel like time is bending, the days fading in and out of each other with no clear distinction. I peel off my clothes at the end of every long day, drop into bed, and wake up to the alarm five minutes later - morning already. Our house is virtually empty - no longer a home because our souls have left, and all the bits and pieces that made it ours are packed away, ready to be shipped. Immy and I are staying with my in-laws, which means cups of tea, hot water bottles tucked into our beds, Immy bathed and fed and settled down before I get home from work. My mom has been here with us , helping me take the load off in a million different ways - running errands, fetching and carrying Immy, cleaning, packing, sorting. And my friends have changed their schedules to fit around mine so that we can squeeze in another visit, inundated us with offers to take us to the airport, brought wine and moral support and laughs and tears and hugs. 

I am so thankful for my village, for all our people who keep showing up in a hundred small ways for this little family of ours.


In the meantime, when we do take time to breathe, we've been enjoying a few firsts, and lasts...

Our first visit to the Blackhorse Brewery, on a perfect winter's day. I'm so sorry that we've only discovered it now - I'd love to see how it looks in summer, with trees and lawn spilling down terraced gardens to acres of open land below. The kids were in their element, and we spent a hazy, golden afternoon eating, and drinking, and reminiscing over our friendship and the unique and lovely story that makes up this little trio of ours. 

One of my last mornings in this bedroom that I loved so much. So many memories of perfect morning light, the cat curled up on a corner of my bed, books and cups of tea and long naps, many pillow fights and games of tickle tickle. I remember so clearly the shift I felt when I wrote this post about our new home. This will always be the place where I took my first steps into a new and strange life, where I stretched and grew and found happiness again. I loved every inch of this place, every minute that we lived here.

A whistle-stop weekend in Knysna, with Immy and a long-time friend and colleague. We visited old haunts and enjoyed much of the same things we always do - except this time around, a soft nostalgia blurred the corners of every outing. Lunch at Totties, the Knysna Heads, Immy's feet pink from the cold water at Leisure Isle. That feeling that you just have to pay that much more attention, be that much more present, because it may be a while before we get to be here again.

As I type this, three burly men are packing every inch of my house around me into cardboard boxes, labeling and sealing them up in packaging plastic. My mom has gone to pick up Immy from school, and I will wait here until our life is neatly stacked and fitted into the back of the truck. People keep asking me how I feel about moving halfway across the world, but the truth is, I haven't even stopped to consider it. There are just so many things that need to happen, and everyday small victories that I still need to focus on and celebrate with my girl. Her first loose tooth. Her first appointment as class captain - mama, I get to walk in the front and tell everyone what to do! A field trip to the movies with her class, and a going away party at school next week complete with owl cupcakes for everyone.

Larger than life experiences for a six year old, and I'm lucky enough to go along for the ride.


Alet Martins said…
Pragtig geskryf, Megan. Ek weet hoe daardie groot afskeid voel. Hugs en liefde vir julle.