#5 Goodbye Brown Bear, Darth Vader, and Pixcie
By Mum
We leave tomorrow morning and suddenly it’s midnight. We have finally packed our bags ready to go. It’s been the week of long goodbyes. Playdates, walks, sleepovers, coffees, lunches, dinners, delightful drop ins at the house, and so many hugs with friends we will miss seeing for six long months. In between, there have been a hundred last minute jobs to do. We have been furiously tidying up the house this last weekend and I say to Dad:
Our house is finally clean and tidy. We don’t even get to enjoy it.
As the words leave my mouth, I look around and suddenly I miss seeing all the little messes: school bags in the hallway with jumpers spilling out, mugs on the coffee table, random bits of stationary jumbled with mail on the dining table, sheet music askew on the piano, lunchboxes and drink bottles in the kitchen sink, little piles of clothes next to the dirty laundry basket, hair elastics and tiny toys that manage to find themselves everywhere. These little messes are the things that make our house, a home. With everything put away, the only mess left is the pile of luggage on the living room floor. I know it’s not home anymore. I am ready to leave.
Five hike packs, five day packs, one handbag and two one way vodka boxes.
I save my last goodbye for “Brown Bear”, that’s the name of our house. She’s called Brown Bear because she has an enormous front door that looks like a pile of shaggy brown fur all ready to give you a hug before you come in.
We are away for 6 months, 180 days, and sending letters home to Brown Bear’s mailbox.
Uncle E and Aunty E will take care of Brown Bear while they are renovating their house. I know she will be in safe hands, as will our cat. If she doesn’t get along with Uncle E and Aunty’s E’s bunny, she has a second home down the street. The cat’s godfamily dropped in last night for a last round of hugs with promises that the cat will not be without pats and a lap to keep warm.
I think she’s asking where are you going?
When Uncle E arrives to take us to the airport, we have a mandatory round of coffee. It’s Dad’s last chance to enjoy his coffee set up. I can see he’s saying goodbye to Darth Vader, the coffee grinder. Yes, we’re the family who name everything… Strong in the force and cloaked in black is he precision whirring coffee beans. Fully fortified, we make a bucket brigade to pass the luggage and load up Pixcie (she’s a Volvo XC90) who flies us down the freeway to Tullamarine. One last hug for Uncle E, we unload our bags and it’s all okay. It’s as if we had planned it this way.
We’ll be holding hands and hiking around the world.
