A Very Reluctant Return

Have you ever stood outside an airport crying your heart out???

I (we) tried not to crumble in the searing heat and calmly say Goodbye, but failed big style…

We said farewell to Maddy and Ryan at the house, and whilst thanking Maddy for being the perfect “hostess with the mostest.” A little voice chirped up to say:

“Bye Bye Grandma & Grandad, I love you.”

(Several times)

Had we really been there 10 days??? Amidst a hundred kisses, that’s when the tears began, and it was time for Liam to drive us to the airport. Which meant another one and a half hours of trying to hold back more tears till we got there.

Liam’s (and our) favourite Pink Floyd CD played in the background, somehow it transformed the journey into a dramatic, emotional, roller coaster ride. As I heard those wonderful classics from one of the best bands of all time, the lyrics of Comfortably Numb and Echoes were just so overwhelmingly apt and powerful, it hurt. I’d never noticed that before, but somehow it felt so right. 

Believe me, turbulence “up in the clouds” is NOTHING compared to such “emotional turbulence” on the ground. Same goes for the fact that we exchanged a gorgeous 38 degrees C in Germany, for a grotty 18 degrees C back in cloudy, windy Britain.

[How could people complain {and they did} when we had our 2 week heat wave total summer here?]

Every kilometre closer towards the airport tugged on my heart strings. I didn’t, didn’t, didn’t, want to leave. If only we could rent somewhere nearby till we EVENTUALLY move to Spain…

When we arrived at the dreaded airport Liam parked on the car park rather than the quick drop off point, so we could go inside and have a coffee together. Later on, as he left us, I was shaking and sobbing so much I could hardly speak. He grabbed me and said “Well mum at least I’m not going back to Afghan.” It helped to put things in perspective, even though we already knew. How we felt as parents while we stood there wasn’t about that, self control was out of reach anyway.  

After a long lasting “group hug” and final “goodbyes,” we both stood outside and waited for him to come past us in his car. He flashed his lights and waved. Amidst our own sobs, we were shouting and waving back till he went out of sight. With eye make up down to my chin as we went to check in our luggage, I didn’t care a toss if I looked like something out of a horror movie.  

I put all the photos on my laptop today, and memories of our precious time together came flooding back.

My usual sense of humour seems to have disappeared for now. Hopefully it’s a temporary thing as we both adjust to being back where we don’t want to be. Without laughter returning soon, I suspect I might go round the twist.

Aside from friends and family, there’s nothing left for us here in the UK, we’ve had enough, and still we have to wait for change. At least in the meantime, we’re living aboard a nice floating apartment I suppose. Our decision to leave the UK has nothing to do with TT.

I’ve not had chance to sort through my precious photos yet, so in the meantime, here’s something to brighten your day:

This little tinker who’s not even 3 years old, can now speak both German and English. At last, the language barrier with our grandson doesn’t exist anymore!

Sometimes sitting in a cardboard box (and abandoning all toys) is much more fun than…


Concentrating on cleaning the patio area…



So was it worth the last day upset?

You bet your ass it was, times 1000 per cent…!

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