The words of Natalie Imbrulia sing in my head. And while Im not cold and lying naked on the floor I’m certainly torn. I have been pondering lately what’s best for my daughter and for me – us – as a family. I ponder it most days and while some are quick to tell me I over think things I like that I think. It generally leads to growth and change and adjustment and reflection. Hand in hand with that come the occasional bouts of guilt and fear – but I believe it’s a small price to pay.
So as I sit here. In the middle of nowhere, or on a more optimistic note, the middle of everywhere, I look outside and see green paddocks, sheep and sweet little lambs. I can hear nature whirling around as the wind blows and I feel safe. The energy here is calming and uplifting and find myself at peace, listening to the steady rain falling around us. The sky is clear, the stars are plentiful and bright and the air is fresh. While we don’t own this property, I am abundantly happy living here for now and it is not lost on me that it’s everything I have dreamed of. A farm close to town, surrounded by cows and kangaroos – my favourite – and various farm-life; open spaces, room to move and a modest and welcoming home.
I have wanted this for faith since before she was even a possibility. We are situated close to the school I ideally want her to attend; we are close to town but far enough away that we pay country postage. We eat our own animals; we grow our own vegetables, fruit, and herbs. We have chooks for eggs, solar for power and rainwater for everything. I feel blessed each day that I find myself here, as it was certainly not my doing (unless we are to count my clearly, astounding manifestation prowess).
Yet, there she is, singing, fluffy cardigan sitting ever so lightly on her shoulders, smoldering eyes searching the screen of my mind. ….torn.
I have all I had hoped for my sweet girl.
As my avid readers may recall, I recently battled with the question of whether another child was on the cards. The result of that thought experiment was no, take the deal and be very happy with the perfect package that I have in Faith. And I am.
But, and it’s a capitol B alright, I can’t shake the feeling that she is missing out on something far more important than open spaces and clean air.
Now, the sibling thing I can deal with as Faith has the most incredible (half) brother and sister. She ADORES them, truly adores them and they her. She is blessed beyond compare and the only hitch is that they don’t see her very often. But she has them.
My brother is the dearest person to me. We have been there for each other forever. I recall standing up for him against a bully. I remember him standing up for me. I recall our days together in the holidays sleeping out in the lounge room tent for what felt like weeks playing games, watching videos. To this day I can call him – day or night – and he is there. More than the normal stuff, I mean seriously giving and sharing. And I like to feel that I have been there for him too, although I could never compare. Faith won’t have that in her life – the daily arguing and soul building fights, the camaraderie and companionship. . I have just begun to know the depths and beauty of my sisters and I delight in the similarities and differences I am discovering – the journey we are taking to become close and bonded.
Faith’s siblings will give her things I never experienced as they are so much older they will take on such a different role which is filled with exciting possibilities. So I can live with that. And I know in my soul that if she ever needed them they would be there for her. I just know it.
So what then, is my problem? Why wont this skinny singing woman exit my brain.
Today I drove a lot, as I tend to do nowadays living in the middle of every/nowhere and on the way home a wave of sadness fell over me. Why are we out here? Away from my dad, my brother, friends? What are we missing? How rich could our lives be if we were 10 minutes away, able to drop over, have dinner, help out quickly and effortlessly. The thing is people don’t come out here. Its just too far. When my dad visits me, each time I am thrilled and shocked that he made the trip. I ask for visits but I totally get the distance factor – it chews up a day just for a hello. Are the relationships Faith has with her family less as a result, albeit her lungs cleaner for the air? Will she grow up close with her little cousin or will she get the schooling I like instead? Will we forever be just that little bit removed from everyone else because its just too hard? I feel that my relationship with my sisters and my sister in law could be so much more if only I was closer? More available? What am I missing out on. What will Faith miss. I have learned that geography plays such a big role in relationships. Proximity matters.
So whats more important? The lifestyle or the connections?
What does it mean to choose one over the other? I miss the closeness. I miss my family, I miss the drop ins and the weekend fun. Will Faith miss what she has never known? Is it fair to deny her the total embrace of family? What would she want?
My dreams of a country life or the closeness I once had, when we lived so near? My mum used to always say “I wish we could all live in a big house all together on a farm. “ I used to tell her that was ridiculous. Ha-if only. Would she have stayed if she knew – if I knew – that all I wanted was that?
I guess being the gypsy I am I can rest assured that things will change, we will move, we may stay or go, near or far. I can see the beauty in that kind of ‘instability’. There is freedom in being ‘without roots’. Ill keep pondering and trust that life will provide Faith with all the love she needs and all the experiences her sweet soul has requested. For now, I will love being here. Ill do my best to let go and hope that I am enough for my family, out here in the sticks. That they will love us even though we aren’t so close or on hand each day.
I have Faith. Both kinds. Maybe that’s all I really need.