When I was growing up, I quickly became accustomed to the unique tendencies of living amongst divorced parents. My mom and her family lived in London while my dad and his family lived between Ottawa and Montreal. While I spent ninety percent of my time growing up with my mom, there was always the understanding that holidays, summers and birthdays were shared amongst everyone. I’ll be the first to admit that it was definitely a busy childhood and I’m sure that my parents felt the same way however, for all its endless travel, it certainly made me feel very loved…people all over the province were constantly awaiting my arrival!

The adventure of flying the skies on my own to all of these exotic places (yes, Ottawa seemed exotic at the time!) let my imagination run wild. Many unexpected things happened over the course of my ten years of flying as an unaccompanied minor and I smile every time I think back to the experience of departing and arriving at various destinations throughout my life. Even now, I have a particular fondness for airports that I can’t help but credit to my younger days.

The one pit fall of airports though, is that in all likelihood (at least during my experiences of travelling), you are leaving one person and meeting another. In the case of my parents, my travels often reflected my mental state towards the break up of my family…always in mid-air between one or the other…saying goodbye and saying hello all at the same time…tears of sadness and thrills of joy…the pendulum never seemed to stop swinging. This experience, while giving me great confidence that I was loved immensely as a child, also gave me a very altered perception regarding the concept of missing someone.

I can say without a doubt that no matter where I was, I always missed one of my parents. When I was in London with my mom, I missed the excitement of being with my dad, and when I was in Ottawa with my dad, I missed the comfort and protection of my mother. Because this was all that I had known all my life, it never occurred to me that some people experienced life differently. I vividly remember one occasion in which my dad came to visit me in London. I don’t remember why he was there or what we did during his visit but, I remember him leaving. I remember clinging on to the fence at the airport next to the runway as his flight took off and I cried and cried and cried, begging my dad not to leave. I sat on the ground, holding on to that fence for what seemed like hours as I watched his plane become smaller and smaller on the horizon until once again, he was gone. When I was finally willing to let go of the fence and head home, I turned around and saw the deepest look of sadness on my mother’s face. It wasn’t a look that reflected sadness for what I was feeling, it was sadness that expressed fear and insecurity; a fear that somehow meant that missing my father meant hurting my mother. Obviously, my young mind never meant to hurt my mother through my actions and obviously, my mother never meant to imply that I loved her any less. I have come to believe that this sort of emotional spectrum is the natural by-product of a divorced family.

As an adult, I have grown out of my fear of missing people. I have lived and learned in a way that enables me to now know that to miss someone means that you have been blessed by someone’s life in a way that has touched your own. To miss someone is a gift, albeit a somewhat trying one at times. To miss someone, especially if they miss you in return, is the great aftermath of loving and longing…it’s what all great stories are made of!!

I mention this because last week, Jeff, Monica, Rohan and Priya moved to Australia. For the next year, their home will be under the Southern Cross instead of Orion’s Belt. This is so hard for me because I am in love with their entire family and just knowing that they are on the other side of the world makes my heart ache for them. Jeff is the big brother that I never had and while he teases me relentlessly, I know that if need be, he would be there for me in a heartbeat. Monica is not only my amazing sister-in-law, but by far one of my closest friends and getting through the days without our weekly phone calls will leave me longing to hear her voice. As for the kids, we already miss hearing about Priya’s ballet classes and Rohan’s new words. As I miss them though, I find myself smiling at the very thought of them. Steve and I are very blessed to have an extremely close relationship with them and while it’s not easy to miss their day to day life, it’s a trade worth making for the coming year. Life is full of give and take and right now, we have to give them away for a bit in order to get them back later.

Relationships, whether they are near or far, require work. They require the effort to keep in touch and stay involved in each other’s lives. No man is an island and they can’t be treated as such. Clearly, our weekend visits and regular phone calls won’t be possible during the next twelve months but, for this particular situation, our problem solving skills have come up with the next best solution…two plane tickets to Sydney, Australia!!!!!

We leave April 1st…!!!!

Uncle Steve and Priya

Gen and Monica

Auntie Gen and Priya

Jeff, my partner in photographic crime!

Auntie Gen and Rohan