There are days when pockets of contentment swirl around my little domestic realm. Happily plonking themselves for a substantial sitting, they take me by surprise.
Not to say that the rest of the time life is unbearable and full of dissatisfaction.
But, I think you know what I mean. It’s those little capsules of time when life goes exceptionally well; when the kids have slept well, fed well and loved-up.
Hence, you are too.
For me though, it turns somewhat bittersweet. Difficult to describe the feeling, it can only be narrowed down to homesickness.
I start to wish that – along with all this domestic bliss – my little family and I could somehow immediately transport ourselves to my birth country.
How these precious moments would, not necessarily mean more, but definitely hold a different dynamic if we were in Indonesia.
I miss it.
And since being married, the longing to return has somewhat intensified, turning into a small ache.
The last time we went, was a trip to Bali 4 years ago. A memorable holiday that also marks our engagement.
And this very special country, that makes up the essence of who I am – my values, my strengths, my vulnerabilities, the comforts within my own identity – is missing out on the major chapters of my life.
It’s like I need to get back in touch with a long lost relative.
These first couple of years of raising twins has meant that travelling has been limiting. Even more so when one has egg and nut allergies.
So, while we’ve been able to enjoy domestic family holidays, the islands of Indonesia have been waiting patiently for us.
Full of natural lush green beauty, heart warming hospitable people, it’s also been crippled with natural disasters, civil unrest and terrorism.
But now we’ve developed our skills as confident parents. We realise that trying to predict the risks and dangers can’t stop them from actually happening; taking all possible precautions can only protect us in so many ways but in the end, life is what it is.
Full of unknowns and adventures.
Beyond a holiday, this is a homecoming.
The familiar, welcoming scents of sandalwood, cinnamon and nutmeg.
Roosters crowing at the crack of dawn.
The big, wide friendly smiles of my people.
I know as soon as the airplane doors open, and I embrace that sauna-like humidity, my heart will be racing, unable to contain the excitement. I will finally be home and introducing my new family to its surroundings.
It’s my first opportunity to show the twinlets a little of their heritage. To help them start understanding that it is possible to belong to two broadly different countries. To witness them make significant cultural discoveries in a land so new and foreign, yet strangely familiar.
We leave four years to the day we got engaged.
We will arrive exactly three to the day we got married.
It’s finally time to return home. Its timing is impeccable.
Joining Jess for IBOT