Two farewells and a welcome

My first farewell is to my wonderful son. He has gone to Australia to be a fully fledged citizen. He's got the long floppy blonde hair, he can surf, and everything!  Although I am of course sad that my son won't be just two hours away by car, I am so excited and pleased for him. He is going on the sort of adventure that, if I was just a little bit younger, I'd love to go on myself. He has a lovely partner, an amazing Australian family who have made him one of their own, and a whole exciting future to plan and enjoy. And, of course, we will get to go and visit him. I can't wait to get to Australia again and see more of that amazing country - and of course get to see my son. I may even visit Judy, my 'cousin' - the granddaughter of my father's half-brother who emigrated when he was just 16. 

With Alex leaving for Australia, our final ties to the market town of
Royston have been severed. The little house that I loved renting, and then provided a home for Alex too, has gone back to its owner, and the kind neighbours and friends we made are left behind. But I have so many happy memories - not just of the last few years, but of the many I spent in that town where my children grew up and where I was a PTA committee member (two schools), a member of the local Writers Circle, and generally a happy resident. Royston is special in its own way - it is on the crossroads of two ley lines, the Greenwich Meridian and the two oldest Roman Roads in Britain. There is the unique Royston Cave, lovely Priory Gardens (where  my children learned to cycle) and - once upon a time - there was a swimming pool and cinema. Royston changed, I changed, we all change. Although I also spent some dark time there, the familiarity of the town and the people in it was a comfort then. My memories of Royston will be good.

My final welcome is to my second grandchild, a little girl born in February. There is nothing that marks time passing like children. You can be married for years and nothing seems to change, but have a child and every month milestones are reached, and you notice the weeks, months and years. You have a comparison in your life that is unmatched. My babies are adults, my daughter a parent herself, and I am delighted to welcome this beautiful little girl.

These are hard times. There is a war on which I fear is only the start of bigger, and worse, things. There is more financial pressure on families and the economy than there has been for generations. Covid is still here and very present, and still making people ill and taking lives. I have a limited contract of work and will be job hunting again soon. Nothing stays the same. 

At times like this, when there are so many dark clouds on the horizon, then I look to the good things in my life; I have a job now, I have a wonderful (albeit far flung) family, an amazing wife, I live in a beautiful place and have many good friends. Things may change, things will change. This is life. Treasure it. 

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