I need to tell you something.
It’s not that I’ve been trying to hide anything. But some of you have no idea.
You know that image of me in your head? The one of me standing on a hill, overlooking the waters of the Pacific, perhaps wearing a wool fisherman’s sweater and fabulous boots?
Well, you also need to add in a few people standing there with me. One is obviously my husband, Keith, holding our pet lamb.
Nice touch with the lamb. I’m liking your mental images.
But you should also add in three more people behind us, probably working to refold a map and trying to figure out where they can get cell reception. They’re my family–parents and younger sister–and they have just moved to Auckland, as of last week.
The Americans have arrived.
I love my family. They are beyond wonderful, and represent a good portion of my favorite people. But it almost feels too easy; picking up and transplanting a family unit to a foreign country.
In fact, it’s makes being away from the States so easy, I’m feeling a little guilty about it.
And I’m feeling much less heroic; standing on that hill, shrugging when my sister asks the name of the island we can see just out ahead.
I guess I’m not the world traveler you thought I was. And suddenly I have much less angst and homesickness to include in my memoir.
But I do have some awesome boots in this mental image. I like those.
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