Trip Start Nov 06, 2003
87Trip End Jan 24, 2004
I wake this morning to indecisive leaves passing the windows, drifting up, drifting down, gazing in at me in a suspended state. I wake up excited, and slightly intimidated that only a week remains to get this house cleaned out and packed for the promise of warm nights beneath the Southern Cross.
The facts we miss Christmas and return to Victoria when Lucy is twice her current age (and no longer a newborn) elicite strong emotions from family. Last night, Julie's mom proposed a toast - more a stern dictum, really - to "get my grand-daughter back alive." I'd accuse her of being maudlin, but this will be pretty much the longest any of us have gone without seeing family. Reflecting on it now, these few months of absence foreshadow separations that await us soon enough - the end of Lucy's infancy, Emma growing up, my parents' generation dying.
So from excitement, I arrive at introspection, so fitting for a stormy late autumn morning. It's been some broad time since I've kept a journal, and while I anticipate a flippant account of hijinks in the South Pacific, there's no telling where a pen will explore on its journey down the page. I'm ready to depart.