It has been two years since we have been home. Turns out this one is a homecoming to remember. We are all excited about the return to Australia and although I have loved visiting Hong Kong on the way (and wishing we could have stayed a bit longer), I feel an overwhelming surge of sentimentality as we touch down in Sydney after an(other) overnight flight. I am way more emotive than I care to admit to see all the Qantas kangaroos lined up a the terminal.
Equally excited am I to see all the familiar names on the departures and arrivals board as we transfer to the domestic terminal for the short flight to Canberra.
Both mum and dad are there to greet us and the boys practically fly at them for those too few and far between grandparent hugs. The boys get to go home with Grandma leaving us to arrange the luggage and the hire car. A good thing too as I’m no sure we wold have fit all the suitcases in otherwise.
Canberra has changed a lot since I left here permanently moving first to Sydney, the Brisbane and now I live in Dubai. But it hasn’t changed all that much in the past tow years. Jason & I reminisce as we drive together back to mum’s. We refrain from taking the Dickson route past Daramalan College where it all began, all those years ago! I’m feeling soppy enough as it is!
It is summer here and warm. Compared to when we were living in Brisbane, Canberra always seemed a bit parched on our periodic return but compared to Dubai it is practically an oasis. Summer helps too as although most of Australia is suffering from an horrific drought, the worst in on hundred years or so, all the deciduous trees are at their full summer best. I actually think there has been a bit of rain around as it doesn’t usually look this green, does it?
Mum’s garden is blooming – the raspberries are dropping of the vines, the figs are not quite fully formed but there is going to be a good crop, and all the bushes are healthily trimmed (one of mum’s love-hate related ion ships). Although the roses are slightly past their prime, they smell like real roses should. It’s good to be home!
We arrive and although I know mum has been cleaning and preparing for our visit for weeks, there is stuff strewn everywhere within minutes. The boys are excited and remember some toys from last visit. Mum puts on the kettle and dad stays for a cuppa and a chat. After all, it has been two years since we have seen him too.
Later in the afternoon the jet lag is hitting. It is about 4pm; Jason is snoozing in the back room and mum offers to take the boys for a half hour run around at the park before we start cooking dinner. “I’ll come too” I suggest, more to keep myself awake for a bit longer than anything else.
We drive down to John Knight Park near Lake Gininderra. The flying fox keeps us going for a bit. We all have a turn and I enjoy the afternoon sounds of the bush surrounds, the birds singing and the smell of eucalyptus as a backdrop to the laughter of the boys playing with Grandma.
Then we converge on the playground. It’s big and a bit too high and I’m slightly on edge as the boys join forces with another group of boys, perhaps slightly older than mine. They’re playing tag and although I have one eye on them and a warning in my throat I let them go, not entirely comfortable with the game. I consciously have to stop myself being the overprotective mother.
Then it happens. My worst fears. Harley is at the top of the climbing frame, perhaps 3m from the ground. He gets tagged, right at the top and just seems to let go of the rope ladder. I see it all in slow motion although somehow I’m nearly under him by the time he hits the ground. Not thinking I scoop him up. He looks up into my eyes and screams.
“Thank goodness!”. My relief is short lived as his eyes roll back in his head, he stops breathing and turns blue. I hear myself scream now and, although inwardly I’m panicking, I instinctively put him on the ground, ready to roll him over. My mind flashes to CPR lessons and I brace myself. “Breathe! Breathe!” Mum and I are yelling in unison.
And then, after what seems like forever but is perhaps all of maybe 10 seconds, he takes in a breath, coughs and screams again. He cries that it hurts but I’m too scared to move him again, now realizing that I shouldn’t have picked him up in the first place. I do a quick check myself, pinching arms and legs. To my relief he protests, “you’re hurting me mum” he whimpers. I say a silent prayer.
Once again it feels like an age until the ambulance arrives. “Where are they?” I plead more to myself than anyone else. I call Jason once we figure out phones, me being half hysterical, mostly I think it’s just shock.
In the end, we are extremely lucky. Although he fell from quite a height and landed flat on his back, the rubberized playground cover seems to have done its job impeccably. The ambulance men are thorough and after a once over they assure me that he is alright. He’ll still go to hospital for a check up but there doesn’t seem to be anything broken or indeed, any obvous damage.
After another thorough once over at the hospital and a rather hazy 4 hours in observation, we carry Harley, who has slept the whole time since he stopped crying from the shock, to the car. And for the second time in the 12 hours since our arrival, we drive home.
I do believe that God was watching over us today. We are indeed blessed. This was a homecoming to remember for all the wrong reasons. Although perhaps it should serve to remind us of what is really important in life. I certainly had that reminder today.
Would I Return?
Yes. I’m so glad to be back home, even if it’s only for just a couple of weeks. And even though Hong Kong was amazing. However, I think we’ll steer clear of that particular park for a bit. I’m still slightly shaken.
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