I know a lot of you are here for the sewing – but while I’m overseas I am on a forced break from sewing and my mind is wandering to lots of other things so please excuse my ramblings. Next month I’ll be back into the sewing, but for now I am enjoying this opportunity to step back and reflect.
It is wonderful to be back home, back in the place where I grew up. Back amongst these rolling green hills and dry stone walls. Everything is so familiar, the smell of the fresh air, the sounds of the voices with their northern accents, the hot cups of tea. It’s a little like being enveloped in an enormous security blanket and cuddled.
I would never have guessed at 18 where my life would take me. If you had told me that I would be living in Australia, I simply wouldn’t have believed you. I’m not the sort for big steps and dramatic changes. I love home and I love my family and I wouldn’t choose to leave. But somehow it happened, almost by accident. I never intended to emigrate, but here I am and I can’t possibly regret the decisions that led me here. I have a home that I love, better friends than I probably deserve and a husband and children who I adore. Who could ask for more really?
But; while these trips back home make me grateful for the life I have in Australia, I also find that they make me mourn, in equal measure, the life I could have had in England.
Sometimes I feel consumed by sadness at this thought. England will always be home, but my life is now so fully invested in Australia that I sometimes think that I could never properly be whole again. It feels as though my life, and my heart, will always be split in two. But this feeling is one which only really gets me when I am already feeling tired and vulnerable. More often I am able to see it as a blessing. Because until you miss something you can never fully appreciate it. I am constantly missing one of my two homes and my heart is full of gratitude for each of these beautiful places and for the lovely family and friends in both.