My family left yesterday to fly back to their home country and I was devastated. I had a glimpse of what grieving was like and it was terrible. Nothing made me happy. The beautiful and warm sun on my skin at the beach could not fill the empty hole in my heart. And yet when I look back, I feel ashamed and guilty of how I felt when they first arrived.

My sweet and small family came to visit me and it took some days for me to adapt to their presence. I wasn’t used having them around and I didn’t know how to love them well for the first few days. I didn’t feel the great love and warmth that I always felt for them. I let work and my daily routine take priority.
 
I knew that I was going to regret feeling this way and yet I couldn’t get rid of it. And I do regret it now. After a while I did get used to them being around and loved their presence. Now I feel like I’m back on that first day that I arrived in Melbourne; sad that I didn’t appreciate our precious moments together and missing them so much.

But times have changed since then and I am no longer a stranger in this country. I have responsibilities and a life here. I have a husband and friends and a church and work, and I am so grateful for them all. Even though the busyness of this life can make the days of missing them shorter, it doesn’t take away the sharp and persistent pain of sadness that I go through every time they leave.

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