Saturday going home ….

Today I return to my home in UK. I leave my beloved daughter once more.  We are practiced and prepared for the comings and subsequent goings but they do not become less tortuous.  

Our holiday has been as we hoped and in many ways much better.  The Brazilian winter has been kind.  Sightseeing has been a joy; learning more about my daughter’s adopted home is a lifeline to distance.  

It has been a delight to see my daughter’s recovery and how she has embraced the initial difficulties and how she has gone on the make her home comfortable and warm (cool) and then become carer of her partner whose injuries have taken longer to repair.  All this, and maintain full time employment, even while she was recovering from a badly broken leg.

I go home happy (ish) and content (ish) that I will not forget her home and will continue to foster connection via wireless and the internet; in many ways we not be apart.  

Nonetheless, my heart is heavy; my injuries from the accident and other tragedies in the last 6 months are unseen and no less painful.  Except my hair loss, since coming to Brazil I have taken off my scarves and hats; in 25 degrees they were uncomfortable and quite frankly less attractive than a bald head. I have almost become used to the situation until I see my reflection.

However, being in a strange city surrounded by supportive family who love me with or without my crowning glory is one thing. Going back to work and among people who might not be so sensitive to my grief; not just my separation but also my hair loss which seems to be so unjust.

So while I give thanks to the providers of my recent joys above listed ; I ask not that my hair grows back but I celebrate my homecoming with good grace.