Going back to my roots…

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Since I can remember, I have always felt that I never belonged. South Africa is a beautiful country with an abundance of wildlife and magnificent scenery. Yet, somehow, it just didn’t ‘call’ me. I have longed for a place that I never knew existed. I longed for castles and beautiful old, history-laden buildings. I tried on various occasions to find ways to leave and live abroad. Each time I failed I was filled with a lingering sadness.
My mother was born in Malta and my father’s parents were born in The Netherlands. I have always felt that I had strong roots connecting me to their respective lands. Finally fed up with the political mess and violent crime, I took a bold step and finally went on a trip to my mother’s homeland. I arrived full of apprehension as I had only ever been told how tiny it was and that it was, well, a rock. I landed and started smiling. I don’t think I stopped smiling for the three weeks that I was there. It was meant to be a two week holiday but I pushed my flight out by a week. Every day was spent looking at areas to live in, the cost of buying new items vs carting our belongings over. I went to the University to enquire as to whether Liam would be able to study. To me, I was just going through the motions of organising. I had already made up my mind. We were going to immigrate.
Looking back over the past 17 months, I can only say that this was the best decision that I have ever made. For my sons, my mother and for me. It is no lie that the first few years are the most difficult! We have faced many setbacks and frustrations, however, all of this has just made us stronger. Through all of this, I am just so grateful and delighted that I have finally arrived in a place that resonates with me and that I can call home.
I’ve always believed in following my heart. I’m just so fortunate that my sons and my mother followed my heart as well. They have made this transition so much easier as they are my support and they are the cornerstones of my life. We have an adorable dog, named Lemmy. Sadly, our beloved bird, Poepie, didn’t make it too far along with us. The tastes, sights and sounds of Malta are different and at times pretty trying!! Loud crackers and the ‘farm smells’ that linger are much to be desired! I find it ironic that an island that was bombed as heavily as it was, finds delight in loud and terrifying crackers.
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So, I’ve finally come back to my roots! This is only the beginning. I am living my dream.
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