What exactly is this?

A newly discovered planet? Cookery channel? Perfume with a yellow tinge? Justin Bieber’s latest album with an Indian sitar playing in the background? Asterix’s new dog?

None of them (as far as I know anyway).

It is four people, very dear to my heart, mixed into one name. My niece, her partner and their two beautiful children. I love how they have formed this single unit, taking syllables from each of their first names and creating a different, new and exciting one. They started as simply Safran, then when their daughter arrived they became Safrani and as a foursome they are now known as Safranix.

Shouldn’t we all do this? Mix first names to become one? Couples, families, friends. I’m going to start a petition to install this rule as soon as this post is finished.

But as I write, Safranix are leaving on a jet plane. Don’t know when they’ll be back again. Well I do, but I needed to sing those lines from the seventies to try to wipe away the tears I shed for them.

They are off on an adventure to taste life on an island in the middle of the deep blue sea. And that little island unfortunately is far, far away.

The tears however are both for them and for myself. Because what they are doing today is what we did as a family over fifteen years ago.

And as I watched my niece approach the departure date and realise that the project was no longer a simple egg waiting to hatch many months later, but was now a big fat hen, clucking and pecking at her ear “it’s almost time”, I remembered the same moments of disbelief, stress, emotion, overwhelming excitement, mixed with undermining grief.

Three years away from home, from loved ones, from everything we knew. How would we ever manage?

And as we said goodbye yesterday, the same knot which had been in my tummy all those years ago started moving up into my mouth, slowly uncoiling and wrapping itself around my throat, choking me with sadness, and bringing painful hot tears to my eyes.

My niece knows how hard that time was and I sincerely hope it is easier for her today than it was for me then. I’m sure it will be. She is more mature than I was, readier to start a new life and try to make it work. And I think that, unlike myself, she will be looking at the road ahead of them and not checking the rearview mirror every five minutes. She knows we can make decisions about happiness and not fight hard against change, expecting joy to appear without our help. She is a clever, strong, determined young lady and I have absolute faith in her capacity to make things bright.

So all I’d like to say is bon voyage, Safranix. Good luck. Enjoy the sun and the sea and the sand and be as happy as you possibly can.

We, like your whole family, will miss you very, very much.

Signed

Julanemise

 
Photo courtesy of creativeherald