The travelling pen: Finding myself again

I recently embarked on a 10-day trip to England with a group of students. We were on the road quite a fair bit and on those long-distance bus rides, I would write. The next few entries are from those journeys.

When I took this overseas trip on, I was really in two minds.

Look, I have two little ones at home. I have never been away from them since they were born. The only times I spent away from Aidan were when I weaned, delivered Zac in the hospital and when Zac was warded for his respiratory infections. As for Zac, well, I’ve been there since the day he was born.

Lest you think I’m being overly attached or sad, it’s a deliberate choice. I made the decision to take a pay cut and this job because it’s stable, has good hours and allows me to be home with my babies. With the husband’s crazy hours at work, one of us had to have reliable hours. Not working is not an option, for the sake of my bank account and my sanity. My littles needed a parent who was “grounded”.

So I took on this assignment with trepidation, especially since I faced such vocal objection from my mother (long story) which layered on the guilt.

But now that I am here, I am glad. I have been first and foremost a mother for the past four years. My thoughts are never far from my children, even when I supposedly am having some “me” time. My hours revolve around picking them up, dropping them off, fixing them dinner etc.

Here, I lose all these other identities. I am just me. I worry about myself and what I eat, what I wear, what I do. I don’t have to think about what foods to get for fussy little palates, how to keep them warm, what to do when they are bored.

I’m just me.

And sitting in the tour bus, as I travel down to Oxford, there is a sense of poetry as the scenery rolls past. The glorious blue sky with giant puffy clouds, the trees – sometimes bare and sometimes lush – and the vehicles that zoom by. I reflect and realise just how much I have missed travelling and exploring and soaking up the sights. I miss figuring out the subway system, miss stepping into a foreign shop and being delighted by its offerings. I miss taking photos. I miss the words and thoughts flowing out of my mind and my heart and onto a screen, to be immortalised.

I do miss simply being, me.