Sometimes travel is hard

After four years of study and twenty years living in the same place, I left my beautiful New Zealand for a year of the unknown in Canada. I felt like I was suffocating in Wellington and desperately needed a change of scenery. I still love Wellington and think it’s probably the best place in the world, but adventure was calling. I needed a new chapter to start, and that chapter couldn’t be in New Zealand. It’s been nearly four months since I landed in Canada and, for the most part, I’m doing really well.

But sometimes being away from home is so hard.

Last week, my grandma died. I’d known when I left NZ that it was possible that she wouldn’t be there when I got back, but that didn’t make it any less of a shock or any less hard when I found out she was actually gone. Knowing I couldn’t be there to say goodbye to her or to be with my family felt awful. Along with that, several people who are important to me are going through hard times, and I can’t be there to support them. And today I found out that one of my cats died (the artistic and photogenic Tim Tam).

I’m loving this little life I’m building in Vancouver. I’m living with the love of my life, I’ve found a job I actually enjoy, and I’m relishing the fact that I’m doing everything on my own terms. But it’s hard to focus on all the beautiful things happening here when there is so much happening back home that I can’t do anything about. While Skype and Messenger are wonderful, they’re no replacement for a shoulder to cry on or a cuddle with your old cat.

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