On Monday, after years and weeks and months and days and hours of organising and cleaning, we all piled in the car, we hooked up the van and we drove down the driveway. Honestly at the time it didn't feel like such a big deal. Like we could have been driving to town for milk or something.
I was trying to make myself feel something as the chorus from the backseat farewelled everything we drove past: goodbye house, goodbye sheds, goodbye chooks, goodbye farmer boys, goodbye dogs, goodbye apple trees...but I didn't. Even though Indi was crying, I didn't really feel it.
We drove into town for a final coffee and some more farewells and then we drove out of town. My sister cried, the girls were excitedly screaming, I could tell Bren was nervous about the van but I was still a bit numb. Like this wasn't really happening yet.
We had lunch about an hour later on the side of a freeway, the van did have issues and needed fixing and we drove to a caravan park in Bendigo.
Then late last night, after the pasta bake made before we left had been eaten, the girls were in bed and the lights were off, it hit me hard.
It came in the form of words and lists and blog posts. Things I had left behind, jobs I had forgotten to do, calls I hadn't remembered to return, a little bit of anxiety and a little bit of excitement.
Those words kept me up all night chatting away in my head. Bla bla bla. They were even louder than the guys chatting a few vans up from ours. Bla, bla, bla...all night long.
But this morning as the sun came up I noticed the words were quietening down. They had done their job and I felt clear and ready for the caravan adventure to begin.
And off we drove...
Rohan Anderson took the pic above. He took loads of great photos of the van and would you believe I forgot to offer him a cuppah! Rude!
I'll show you more of Ro's ace pics tomorrow.