|Ready for adventure. Noah, age 6, on our way to France|
On this day, nine years ago, we put our French life on hold for what we thought would be a couple of years and flew back to Australia. My little boy was little and my three children all still at school. In a few days time that will change. The littlest, Noah, is no longer little and, like his two sisters, neither will he be living at home.
I know that at this juncture of family life all parents have to say something of a good-bye, and perhaps the emotions of one’s last child to leave home is different…more raw, strangely physical. But, Noah is champing at the bit to discover what life has in store for him and it is with pride that I will watch him go.
He is a dreamer who sees himself sailing the seas, wandering barefoot, playing his guitar campside, exploring the depths of the ocean (with his brand new SCUBA certificate en poche), wearing his Indiana Jones hat (passed down from his father) under the scorching daytime sun of distant archeological digs and debating the mysteries of time and space – in English, in French or in any language born of mutual comprehension – at night.
|Another family member that will miss him|
My son, I know that you will be kind, loving and generous whilst living your adventures.
Ah yes, I see that smile in your eyes and hear the rising chortle that precedes your quip in response. And, in translation, I know that it is saying, « It’s ok, Mum. I’ve got this. »
|Cold, wind-blown, but special walk in the mountains|