A Galaxy Far, Far Away…

Okay, okay. They’re not going to another galaxy, but my parents are moving.

I have never lived more than about 25 minutes from my parents, and that was only for the last 7 years or so. Until then I lived not even 5 minutes away.
Being a single mom I knew that living so close to my parents was invaluable. They were my support structure, my backup, my babysitters, my please-come-to-this-school-meeting-with-me. Changing jobs and moving away wasn’t an option because my son and I needed our family.
They were always there for me, and I got to spend pretty much every family occasion with my parents.

Now my mommy and daddy darling are both retired, they’ve sold the house we moved into when I started high school, and they’re moving into a cottage being built for them on my sister C’s property.
My daddy darling’s health isn’t spectacular and they want to spend their time in each other’s company, and I am so very glad for them both, that they will be able to spend their golden years together. And its a smaller house than the one they were in for nearly 28 years so its easier to maintain, and of course- their precious pooches are going along with them.

They’ve spent the last few months – since the house was sold – packing up boxes and giving things away in order to fit into their new house. We’ve all been given all kinds of things from clothing to crockery, and I have several antique pieces I’m going to try and sell for my folks as well.

The packing and sorting and preparation has made the last few weeks very busy, which has kinda helped…

I no longer need a babysitter, or someone to accompany me to school meetings, but when I think about just how far away my parents are moving it makes me want to cry.

And I know its ridiculous. I’m still going to see them. I’m still going to visit. But they’re not going to be round the corner anymore.

Mama Pride Overflow

The weekend past was full of tears. Most of them though, were happy.


Sadly we weren’t there to see him get his certificate, but our Damien has qualified as a Dive Master!


For those not in the know – and as I have learnt – its an intense course and means at least 60 dives, a full physical, a series of fitness tests, skills tests, several exams and courses requiring at least an “A” to pass each one and leading at least 5 dives.


He did all this while working six long days a week and living away from home – which meant he had to look after himself- doing his own housework, laundry, cooking and cleaning – and he had to discipline himself to study and revise his course work in preparation for his exams.


He’s healthy, happy, tanned, he’s smoking less, he’s getting to travel a bit, and I only hear good things from his employers and instructors.


Man… I’m in tears again just thinking about how much he’s achieved.


I am so proud of him I could burst.


He’s changed and grown and matured so much. We have actual conversations on WhatsApp and when we spend time with him, like for his birthday, he chats to everyone and tells them about his work and his dives.

The next big qualification is Dive Instructor – another set of courses and another 40 or so dives (he has to have 100 to finish qualifying), along with working full time and being a grown up, and he should finish that by the end of this year.

My child is happy.