Thursday 12 August 2010

The furthest point on the planet


I miss my parents. In quite a consuming way. I think about them most of the time. It isn't just because I love them, it's because I enjoy their company so much. I love chatting to them, we like doing the same sorts of things, they make me feel great about myself, they make me laugh, they are positive and generous and they love life. I never feel like I need space from them and however much time I spend with them, it feels like it's not enough.


When we decided to move to New Zealand in 2007 I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get on the plane and fly to the furthest point on the planet away from them. In my 'the world revolves around me' fantasy (which the husband assures me it doesn't) my parents live next door. We live in a chocolate box cottage with wild flowers climbing all over the walls and apple trees dotted through the garden offering dappled shade. We are continuously planning adventures and there is a constant stream of people of all ages through our house, drinking tea, eating cake and quaffing wine whilst doubled over with exquisite laughter. All my mates live within spitting distance and our children run wild with each other. All this takes place in Devon, the Isle of Wight or Stamford in Lincolnshire where I went to school.


I also miss English things like people saying "ooh, I'll put the kettle on" as a reaction to any drama ranging from missing out on a parking space to a death in the family. I miss the kind of dry humour found particularly in the north where my parents live. My Dad recounted a conversation he overheard between two elderly gentlemen yesterday. "Hello Frank, it's been a while hasn't it? How have you been?" Frank replied "Well I woke up this morning so I can't complain."


Since returning from Auckland last weekend I have felt rather unsettled and raw. That always excacerbates my homesickness. My parents rang today and told me they have booked their tickets to come and visit in January. I'm so lucky they are happy to travel here as often as possible.
The photo was taken by the lad as I stood on a chair to talk to my neighbour over the fence. It tickles me to see the world from his height.

2 comments:

  1. This struck a chord with me.

    My husband wants us to move to new zealand, he has some family who live in Wellington that he gets on well with, and loves it over there.
    I, on the other hand, have the same sort of relationship as you with my parents. I also really love England and all things English. I don't want to move over there.

    It has become a point of contention between my husband and I.
    Although he has been to New Zealand many times, I have never been.

    So in december he is going out with our 7 yr old daughter, and I will follow on when I break up for the christmas hols (I work in a school).
    I'm not really looking forward to it, it will mean missing christmas with my side of the family.
    His idea is that I will fall in love with it and want to move, but even if I do, I don't think the pull will be strong enough to take me that far away from my parents, and to take their only grandchild that far away from them. He says that if I don't like it then we won't go. But I don't think that will be the end of it.

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  2. I feel for you. All very similar to our situation. After nearly 3 years, I have an appreciation for New Zealand but my love for England and homesickness is as strong as ever. There are many reasons we moved here and they are mostly to do with quality of life for our little family. I was happy to do it because of that. I will be interested to hear what you think when you visit. Are you going to be in Wellington? you can email me more about it if you like jennyroper@hotmail.co.uk

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