Visiting Home After Three and a Half Years

At the beginning of July, I flew back home to Australia, for what was the first time in three and a half years since I had left. While I had seen my parents and sister, and a number of extended relatives and friends, in that time, there were several people who mean a lot to me, that I had not seen: my four grandparents, family friends that I had known all my life, and friends from high school, university, and college. I was nervous; about what, in particular, I wasn’t sure. After everything that the past two and a bit years has been, and brought, the day that I finally landed back in Australia was quite momentous, and long-awaited.

For the most part, everyone looked the same way that I had left them. It felt as though I had just seen them a month or two ago. But for the first couple of days, it felt somewhat strange to drive through my town, and compare it to my most recent memory, and meander through my family home, which invoked the feeling of nostalgia. I had missed, very much so, my Mum’s cooking, and watching films with my Dad, and, just simply, hanging out with my sister. Conversation in person, face to face, just cannot quite be replaced with FaceTime calls. I appreciated being in the same timezone as family and friends, walking around grocery stores filled with items that reminded me of my childhood, and plenty of space and fewer people. I had missed many family dinners, and being a part of those table conversations, and my dog, whom I had worried might have forgotten me. One of my cousins was due to give birth during the middle of my trip, but was, unfortunately, late, and thus, I missed this terribly exciting time.

I felt somewhat overwhelmed, at times, by the love that I felt from those whom I spent time with. Feelings and expressions of true emotions cannot be fully expressed through phone calls, and video calls, and messages, and so it wasn’t until I returned home that I realized just how much those reunions would mean to everyone, myself included. Perhaps I would have felt differently had there been less time between visits. It wasn’t until I had flown for over 20 hours, across time zones, and through a series of airport and airline delays due to pandemic-related travel nowadays, that it became more apparent just how far away I had moved. A significant amount of time had passed since I had last visited, and of course, conceptually, I knew that Australia was far but, the journey almost didn’t seem so long until I was actually undergoing it. I feel fortunate, though, that I am able to travel, and that my family and friends are able too, as well, because that makes the world feel just a little bit smaller, as though they are not too far away; that in 24 hours, we can, physically, see each other.

Moving to a different town, or city, or country requires you to surround yourself with new people, and things to fill your time, and your mind, which inevitably means that you need the people that you left a little bit less, or perhaps just in a different way. But, visiting home reaffirmed just how meaningful those relationships with family and friends are to me, and how greatly I want to maintain them.