|The 4 Little Travellers|
It is our last week.
I really don't like this week. I've done this week before. I know how it ends and it's not pretty.
As sunny as it may be, a large grey leaving cloud will hover over our heads this week. The sun will peek through cheerily as people arrive for last minute catch ups and boozy lunches, but eventually the time will come. The final goodbye. The leaving cloud will sink lower, a little closer, a little darker.
I have a shopping list on my refrigerator of last minute things. Things I haven't seen in Qatar that I can find here easily. They're not important, but they can be, particularly when you don't have them. The hundreds and thousands for the fairy bread, the tins of passion fruit for the pavlova, the Delicious magazine and the pink ear plugs for swimming lessons. We can live without all of these things, but having them might just save us from that homesick moment that arrives when you just wish you could duck down to Woolies or Coles.
Over the next week we'll become desperate, like those on the last day before starting a diet. We'll gorge ourselves on as much of Australia as we can. The last appointment with the favourite hairdresser, the last trip to the bakery, the final visit to the winery around the corner. There will be long trips to the beach, lengthy chats with the nice lady at the local library, the pharmacist, the guy at the petrol station. People that we have seen on a daily/weekly basis for the past three months, people who have become friends. All conversations will end with the same theme.
I know we have to go back. I know this is the right thing for us. I know that I'll be sad, then happy, then sad, then happy. I know that the cloud will lift and I will once again embrace my geographical schizophrenia and be thankful for all that it offers. In the meantime though, I really don't like this last week.
I really don't like goodbye.
How about you? Any tips on farewells?