One minute they’re playing with toy planes, the next minute your child is flying away on one to the other side of the world. Photo: lovelypeace.
Number one favourite (and only) child has been offered the job of a lifetime. The only drawback – it’s in Dubai.
I’m going to join that most unwelcome mother’s club – mums whose offspring have not only flown the coop but have sprouted airline-sized wings that take them overseas for some indeterminate period.
Over the years I’ve sympathised with girlfriends who’ve joined that club, not of their own choosing.
There’s the mumma whose son was in London at the height of COVID and the other mumma whose son lives in Florida and is now engaged to a lovely American gal.
My sister has been a member for a couple of years now, after her daughter decided her wings would take her to Canada.
In the past there have been close calls with club membership – there was talk of a gig in Singapore and then New Zealand (I could cope with that; close enough for a long weekend, kind of).
It was hard enough when, not long after moving out of home, No 1 son got a promotion – in Melbourne. He told his father the news first before the husband gingerly handed me the phone and stood back.
I wasn’t angry – definitely shocked but also very proud that he had the confidence to apply for a job in a city where he had holidayed a number of times but knew no-one.
Once we were able to deposit him into the safe hands of old family friends who had kids of a similar age, I was much more relieved.
That was, of course, until COVID hit and Melbourne became the most locked down, isolated city on the planet. I took some comfort that by then he was sharing a unit with a great mate so at least he had company. I still sent them food parcels (tiny cookies in the shape of a male body part), games, jigsaws and silly presents to break the boredom.
We were extremely lucky that in all the COVID lockdowns we never missed spending his December birthday and Christmas together, although there were some very close shaves, lots of tears (from me of course) and a couple of frantic dashes to catch trains back to Victoria before the state closed its borders.
He finally moved back to Sydney, all the while climbing the corporate ladder and loving life. He met a wonderful girl (tick of approval from mumma and that’s hard to earn) and they managed to find a great place to live that was an easy drive from Wollongong.
Dubai is not an easy drive from Wollongong. If you’re thinking, oh well, at least Jen’ll have somewhere to go on holidays, stop now. Dubai has never been on my holiday list. Ever.
The best thing about Dubai is that we’ll have somewhere to stay on stopovers to the UK to stay with his girlfriend’s family (told you she’s a keeper).
I have to admit the stars have aligned for him with this job. He’ll be back working with one of his mentors and great mates, the experience will be an impressive addition to his CV, the salary is staggering and the new company is helping to make the move as smooth as it could possibly be.
It will mean that on their return two or three years down the track (lock that in please) they’ll be able to afford to buy a home in Sydney with a hefty deposit – one they would never have been able to save while living and working in the city.
I was venting about his move to another member of this mother’s club, whose extremely talented offspring ventured to the US as a young’un and made a household name for himself, when I realised something – we’ve done a bloody good job with our kids.
We’ve encouraged them to be confident, intelligent, motivated humans.
We’ve given them the courage to grow wings and believe in themselves, to step out of their comfort zone, to work hard, be successful and achieve their goals.
We’ve made sure they know we’ll always be here for them and will be honest if we’re asked for our opinions.
They’ve made us bloody proud to be their parents.
But we’re still crushed when their talents take them to the other side of the world.
I know my heart will sink a little every time I think of Dubai and I will count the sleeps until the next time I get to hug my boy and his girl.
But I will send them on their way with much pride and even more love, happy that they are sharing this incredible adventure together and creating memories that will last them a lifetime.
Then I’ll go home and have a cry – I’m allowed to, I’m his mumma.
