My husband has got a job overseas.
He will be leaving for three months to work on the news. When conflict and its aftermath hits, when politics shift in a certain direction, my husband will be there to capture those stories and tell the rest of the world.
It’s been an opportunity he’s been seeking for a while. In fact, this blog began the night he had an interview with one of the international news agencies. Suddenly our little family was faced with the prospect of leaving this country and starting our nomadic life across the globe.
I lived like that during my early childhood, before we came to Australia to settle. It was a life I thought I left behind. But it seems the prospect of moving from place to place, country to country, may still be present.
For the moment, it is my husband who will be leaving first. I am hoping he will come back to discover that this place he’s grown up in is still the best home he’s ever had. That I’ll finally be able to put down roots in this country.
Perhaps the experience will change him. Maybe it will only serve to push him further away from the country we’ve known the longest and the best.
Terry Pratchett once wrote:
“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”
But can we really come back?
I have watched my husband yearn for an opportunity like this for years. And a part of me is proud that he is finally getting to chase his dreams.
But for us, the wife and son he’s leaving behind, we will miss him terribly.