We were all packed and ready to go.
I’d finally got my head around leaving the children. The four of them would be spending the week with various family members. Everything was neatly arranged. All that remained was to try and get a good night’s rest before a day of gruelling travel.
And that’s when the puking began. It was about 3:30 am. All of a sudden, our four-year-old, Emily, appeared at our bedside and announced that she was going to be sick.
She was absolutely right about that. Poor little angel.
What on earth were we supposed to do now? Perhaps this was a sign…that we shouldn’t be going? I’d never felt so torn. What if she had a bug? How could I leave her with my parents like this? “Hi mum and dad – Thank you so much for looking after our child – Here’s her suitcase….Oh and here’s a sick bucket…”
At about 7am, I nervously called my parents to explain the situation, half expecting that we would have to cancel the trip.
Of course, they insisted that we still go…Let it be said, right here, right now, my parents are absolute heroes.
And so, choking back the tears, we said our goodbyes. My heart was in knots as I watched little Emily wave us off, tightly clutching hold of her beloved Winnie The Pooh Bear. Saying goodbye, even if just for a week, is the hardest thing to do. But nevertheless, we were off to the Maldives.