Our mid-home assignment holiday

We're fresh back from holidays. So much happened during our time away that I want to take some time to write it down and process it a little here. But I'll also share some beautiful Queensland scenery that we saw!

Two and a half weeks ago, on Saturday Jun 27th, we drove to what Australians call the Sunshine Coast. It's the coastal area north of Brisbane (as opposed to the Gold Coast, which is south). This part of Queensland includes several cities and towns and about 60 km of coastline. It's one of the holiday "playgrounds" of southern Queensland. My family took a number of holidays there when I was a child. 

We spent the weekend meeting people and speaking at a supporting church, which was both busy and very encouraging. 

Wurtula Beach on Sunshine Coast

But, from the Monday we were on holidays, free of obligations and deliberately took a break from email and social media and staying up-to-date with stuff. We were thankful for a free housesitting opportunity close to the beach for a week. Though we didn't swim, we walked along the beach several times. We even got to collect and eat fresh eggs from the house chooks. I came down with a cold during this week and was thankful for time to rest.

Our youngest son and a friend also joined us there for 24 hours. We had fun hanging out and playing games. It was fun to cook for them too.

Urban chooks...who were a bit more fussy than the 
country chooks we've met.

Nice walkway just inland from the beach where we were staying.

Moss on Wurtulla Beach

The Peanut Van was a flash back to my two years living in Kingaroy in the
Burnett region of Queensland. We were thrilled to find they sold nuts other than peanuts.

I hadn't thrown off the cold before we had to vacate that lovely house and drive north for about seven hours, but, suitably medicated, I coped with the drive. Waiting for us in Central Queensland was David's family. We caught up with both his siblings, their spouses, and most of his nephews and nieces. 

We parked my parents' motorhome (our transport and often our bed for these 2 ½ weeks) outside my mother-in-law's house and slept there for our stay, keeping her guest rooms free for our eldest son and his family, who drove down from North Queensland to meet us. They also got to meet most of David's immediate family. It was the first time for almost any of them to meet our daughter-in-law and granddaughter. Another first was all of David's siblings with their spouses (and David's mum) to get together for a meal without any kids!

The "Singing Ship" of Emu Park. An installation that "sings" with the wind.
It commemorates the discovery and naming of Keppel Bay by Captain Cook
in 1770.

Locals know this as "Causeway", it's south of Yeppoon. I discovered this is a place of nostalgia for David's siblings who spent their childhood in this area. The Causeway Lake is a tidal estuary that was created in the 1930s by building a bridge and road link across the mouth of a creek. It's a popular recreation area. We had lunch here one day with family.

On the road again. It's been 2 ½ years since we spent two months in this
motorhome, but it felt very familiar when we hopped in here again.

It was several days of a lot of family—especially a lot for these two expats who usually live on the other side of the ocean to family! But it was worthwhile to take the time to reconnect with family, because at the end of the day, regardless of everything else, we're related to them all.

We did get four precious days with our granddaughter, who, at seven months old, was very different to when we last met her as a newborn. She was full of smiles (and frowns, and very much knew the difference between her parents and everyone else). We ate and played, explored and rested. My daughter-in-law and I took over my mother-in-law's kitchen for a time preparing food for our mob.

But, then we also had to say goodbye to them all. Maybe my heart has grown tough? I didn't find it as difficult as you might think I would. I guess we've accepted (long ago) that we don't live close to family and therefore don't have the same expectations of our relationships with them? 

In some ways it was a relief to head off on our own for the next six days and have some very slow days. We were tired and a bit over-peopled, and also noting that we've been living in other people's homes (very nice and generous people!) and away from our own little apartment since mid-May. 

We split the journey south in two, driving about four hours on the Thursday to Lake Monduran (west of Bundaberg) and the Saturday to Lake Somerset (south of Kilcoy). And then, on Tuesday this week we drove two hours to return the motorhome to my parents and a bit over an hour back to our hosts in Ipswich. A fair bit of driving, but in many ways that's part of our Australian DNA as "country kids". Driving country roads just feels normal to us and something we have to do to visit family. Also, having spent two months driving through four states and territories in that same motorhome back in 2024, we felt very much at home on the road in it.

We indulged in some free Mini Golf at one of the campsites.

Our second campsite (Lake Somerset) had many kangaroos, especially 
after the school holiday crowds left. It's fun seeing them
lounging around, free to come and go and not in a zoo!

Sunset cast a beautiful glow on the lake and surrounds.

We enjoyed a roast dinner one night in the motorhome. I quite enjoy
cooking in its tiny, but well-equipped kitchen. We didn't actually roast
the chicken in the van, we bought it already cooked, but the motorhome 
has an oven, so I could have roasted a chook myself if I'd desired to. The
vegetables were all cooked on the gas stovetop.

One of our delights is finding an Aussie burger (including beetroot) at a country shop.
These were bought on our journey between campsites, at Ban Ban Springs.

The first campsite. Most of the people at this site were fishermen.

Sunset over Lake Monduran.

There were signs at the Lake Monduran campsite advertising this as a
walking track, but we found it fairly dissatisfying. Very high grass and a washed out
bridge (below) that didn't allow us to complete the full walk.

Also Lake Monduran (and below).

Our time on our own at those two lakes comprised of reading, solving various puzzles in two puzzle magazines bought for the purpose, walking around the local area, doing laundry, cooking, and generally just resting and re-setting prior to the push of the last three weeks of deputation we have to do before flying back to Japan.

Looking back at our time away we are so thankful for time with various family members, including each of our sons individually. A friend pointed out one interesting theme: that we played board games with each of our sons during our time away (either in person or online!

For some time we have been discussing what home assignment would look like for us after all our kids left home. One of the key decision points to doing any home assignment is what to do about the responsibilities that you hold in your country of service. As a school teacher, it isn't easy to take random lengths of time off to do a home assignment. Most teachers would do it during their summer break. Otherwise it means taking six months or a year off as anything else is difficult for a school to manage. But home assignment is work, so taking all of that holiday time to work isn't the wisest course. Therefore one "big rock" that we had to plan for this shorter home assignment was holiday time, because we need to get back to Japan refreshed, not ready for a break as we'll both be jumping back into work within a couple of days of landing there. Having this break part-way through our 11 weeks in Australia was hopefully a good choice. 

A friend asked me the other day if we'll do this style of home assignment the same next time. I said we'll finish this one and let the dust settle before we evaluate it. So, stay tuned! (Might I say it also depends on what we're allowed to do, we had to get approval from a number of different people in order to pull this one off.)

Anyway, that's enough reflecting for one blog post. If you've read this far then I'm impressed as I've written for myself as much as anyone!

Day 24: Lake St Clair to Bothwell and back again

Lake St Clair at sunset

Last night I once again fell asleep before I got the end of the queue to talk to the online after hours doctor. But this morning I finally got to talk to a doctor about the radiology tests (my fifth in twelve days—I'd seen a doctor in Canberra, one in Bega at the ED, one on Easter Saturday, a dentist. and doctor on Easter Monday, then radiology on Tuesday). She agreed that it was inflammation of the sub mandibular salivary gland, but she wasn't happy with the level of inflammation on the scans, because they had been done after I'd already finished one course of antibiotics. My symptoms had improved, but not enough. So she prescribed another course. 

Sunset

It was then that we discovered just how remote we had, once again, ended up. The closest pharmacy was 90 minutes drive away (we were about equidistant from two). I was again frustrated. We'd hoped to go bushwalking that afternoon, but it seemed a drive was needed.

So we drove to Bothwell, a small, historical town in the centre of Tasmania. Making lemonade out of lemons, we discovered that there was a bit to see in the town. We chatted to the ladies at the information centre who pointed us to a walking tour and also to (in their opinion) the best place in town to have afternoon tea—the Post Office!

We eventually got back to Lake St Clair in time to make dinner and enjoy a sunset view at the lake.

A historic building in Bothwell with a short door.
David's standing there for comparison,
he's under 180cm tall.

Couldn't get enough of this lake!

Bothwell Post Office & Cafe

Yep, it's definitely autumn down here (feels like
winter, though, to us Queenslanders, who were
experiencing 30+ degree temperatures when we 
left home a month ago).

Nearly four hour round trip to get a course
of antibiotics. Some of this was on unsealed road too.

Day 21: a day east of Melbourne

The road into Four Brothers Rocks

This day threatened to be another "lost" day. A day where my medical needs superseded any holiday fun we might have. We packed up and drove to the radiologist in a nearby suburb, getting there an hour early on a cool, windy morning. Turns out that early was good. The appointment we'd booked online was for only one of scans I needed, but they were able to slot me in for the other as well and I was all finished before my original appointment time.

Then we needed to decide what to do with the rest of the day. David did some Googling and discovered Four Brothers Rocks in a nearby state park. He didn't realise the road there was not sealed, but we made it there anyway and enjoyed a short walk to a scenic spot.

Alas we were bother looking in the wrong place
in this photo and so look somewhat unhinged!

After that we drove to the home of former CAJ colleagues of David's who had kindly agreed to host us for the night. We enjoyed conversation and dinner with our feet under their very stable table, and use of their bathroom, but slept in our own bed. I still wasn't sleeping well, so keeping one thing constant seemed to be a good thing. It was refreshing to talk with folk who knew a lot about our Japan home and know many of the same people there.

Four Brothers Rocks

Day 20: dash to the dentist

Where we parked that night, east of Melbourne 
and surprisingly rural. No facilities available to us
here, just a space to peacefully park (which cost us
$20).

If you've been following along, you'll know that finding dentists open on the Easter long weekend had been impossible in the areas we’ve been travelling in (rural NSW and Vic), even Canberra seems to lack this kind of service. Melbourne was different, and I found a dentist fairly quickly once we were within driving distance. So this “Easter Monday” (the last day of the four day weekend of holidays) we packed up early and drove over three hours to the eastern suburbs of Melbourne, to get to the dentist before she shut at 1pm.

The dentist was very compassionate and quickly determined that my problem wasn't dental at all. She diagnosed inflammation of the sub-mandibular salivary gland. This gland sits under the jaw bone, about halfway along. This was my third diagnosis in eight days! Would it be the right one? 

Nowa Nowa to Officer to Pakenham

She told me I needed to see a doctor and get some scans done. So that was the next job. We drove to a nearby Hungry Jacks (Australian Burger King) and I had a thickshake for lunch: the easiest thing for me to "eat" as I was still struggling to open my mouth and chew, although it was a little better than a couple of days earlier.

Rainbow just before we left this spot.

Mist on our three hour dash to the dentist

We sat in their car park after lunch and used their WiFi to search for doctors and for radiologists. I accidentally found an after hours bulk bill telephone consult service (non-Aussies, this means I didn't pay for a consultation, it was covered by our compulsory national health insurance). I waited a couple of hours to hear from a doctor, but once I did, she was helpful. Perhaps a little too helpful. She order a CT scan of my neck and an ultrasound. But unfortunately she also led me to believe that I could get the results of those tests from the same telephone service, which had implications in the following days. Thankfully David found a radiology appointment in the area for the next morning.

It was feeling like my health was the third member of this trip and has a far louder voice than either of us, and I wasn't very happy about that.

Then we had to find an alternative place to park the van for the night, because our original planned stopping spot was too far away. Thankfully that wasn’t too hard and so the rest of the day and evening were quiet, very quiet. We were parked at some isolated community hall, with no facilities we could use, just parked there. It rained and blew that night and later we heard that our original plan would have been even worse (exposed spot on the south coast). Thankfully we were in a watertight van where we could be comfortable.

This night we spent some time on a fun project I’m working on. It's a basic scrapbook journal of our journey, in the style of one I did on my first trip to Tasmania when I was 10. It's in a basic school exercise book with a short summary of the day's activity and sticking in any "souvenirs" of the day that we can find. We did a few days of that this night: a non-WiFi activity.

Day 19: travelling to the south coast

The caravan park where we stayed that night

This was Easter Sunday, a very special day for Christians. We had intended to go to church in Jindabyne before we travelled on. But I had very little energy at this point and David decided the drive to our next stop was enough to try to attempt. I'm sad that our plans ended up sabotaged like this.

I continued to be amazed at how two hours of driving can easily take you into a very different area of Australia. For example on this day we drove from a very dry highland region to verdant coastal. It was a stunning drive that I wish I could have appreciated more, but pain was disturbing my nights and I often felt quite sleepy. 

I drove some of time this day and it was a struggle, probably a bit dangerous! I was just glad to feel well enough to drive. Some recent drives would probably not have been so difficult if I had been at the wheel—it’s not that David is a bad driver (on the contrary, he's an excellent, very considerate driver), but that I’m a bad passenger on winding roads due to my lifelong nemesis of a tendency to motion sickness. But meds and pain also contributed to the nausea, I suspect, as we're living in a “home on wheels” which is surprisingly wobbly.

Snowy River, of Man from Snowy River fame

This day, after three days of trying, I also managed to make a dentist appointment in a place we could get to. I found a place in eastern Melbourne open until lunchtime on Easter Monday. It was still a public holiday, but it seems that city dental care is better than country care. Rural health care has always been a challenge in this sparsely populated country. This trip, though, I've been surprised by how remote much of the southern east coast is.

We entered into Victoria this day, the pointy eastern end.

Enough about me. 

We were staying in completely new territory to both of us. We've rarely been to Victoria and never to anywhere east of Melbourne, the state capital. It's amazing how much of the state is out that direction! Unfortunately we didn't get to linger out there, but we did get a passing view. 

Snowy River

The owner of the caravan park made some big claims about the local coffee, just reinforcing our preconception that Victorians are proud of their coffee culture. We didn't get to check out his claim, however, as we arrived just before dinner and left early the next day.

Another photo of the van for Dad :D

Day 17: Bega to Dalgety

I didn’t want to get up this day. It was the first day of Australia’s four-day national long weekend: Easter (Friday to Tuesday). This weekend is traditionally a time that many people go away, and often engage in outdoor activities like camping, so  many services are closed this weekend.

I'd gone to sleep the night before hoping that today might be when we could find somewhere to visit a dentist. The problem we encountered in searching using Google Maps was that most places either were marked as usual operating hours on Friday, or there was a note that there was uncertainty about the hours due to the public holidays. Because we didn't find out this was potentially a dental problem until after most clinics closed for the long weekend, we didn't even get the chance to call clinics to find out if they were open, or if they knew of somewhere that was. This morning I even called Canberra Hospital to see if they knew of somewhere...but they did exactly what we'd been doing—Googled it, and came up with possibilities, but none of them ended up being open. 

So we ended up getting exactly nowhere in terms of making a plan. In the end we just carried on with the plan we'd had before: to spend the next two nights on a farm in the highlands near Dalgety on the Snowy River, about 80 km by road from Australia's highest mountain (Mt Kosciuszko).*

I didn't want to get out of bed. I was in pain, had nausea, and had difficulty eating (chewing and opening my mouth were both painful). But checkout time approached and I just pushed myself into that vehicle. I was drowsy during that journey because I also hadn't been sleeping well. Thankfully I didn't need to drive.

The landscape was amazing, though. It changed from being usual "great dividing range" forest to a weird brown, barren land (see the photos). Turns out this is a naturally dry area in a rain shadow. It was weird.

Our hosts were very friendly, in fact, it was hard to stop them talking. I felt terrible and not at all like socialising, sadly! It was a strange place to stay, but also a peaceful one where we saw lots of sky and two beautiful sunsets. Nearby were two other sets of campers, but not so close that we needed to interact with them. Strangely here was a flush toilet sitting on top of a nearby hill. We were not connected to electricity, and basically self sufficient, so it was weird to have access to a flush toilet (though you had to manually fill the tank from a container).

I was thankful to have been able to make the journey there and then to rest, but was still concerned about what the "next steps" should be: should we go back to Canberra, press on to Melbourne, or something else? And was my condition getting worse (swelling in the neck area is always concerning). No answers were easily forthcoming and this overshadowed the two nights and one day we spent at this place.

*At least the highest mountain on the continent, there are others higher in the Australian territory of Antarctia.

Day 16: unexpected stop in Bega

I slept very poorly on Wed night. Mouth pain was the issue. Our plan was to travel inland to a farm about half an hour from Jindabyne this day, but nausea and pain for the better of me. Under the left side of my jaw I developed swelling. We stopped on the way because I was nauseous and then half an hour later for lunch at Bega, which I then threw up. I discovered the regional hospital was located in this small town so decided it would be good to pay them a visit. 

We spent the whole afternoon there. 

Not an unpleasant place, but I was nauseous and tired and craving a place to lie down…but there wasn’t anywhere. I ended up curling up in a large orthopaedic chair with a high back (I couldn’t touch the floor). The doctor concluded it was probably dental problem, though the mouth xray didn’t conclusively prove that. She gave me antibiotics as a stop-gap measure because the timing and location of this was very poor. Emergency dental doesn’t seem to be an organised thing in Australia. Certainly not in rural areas. At 5.30pm Thursday we had both too few options and too many options. We could not find a dental clinic open or advertising they’d plan to be open…not in the small town of Bega, nor in the much larger (and nearest)  city of Canberra, 2.5hrs northwest. We’re still six+ hrs away from Melbourne. Our planned route was not towards larger cities at all, so we had nowhere booked for the night. Our next stop was to be a rural farm 1hr 40 away. I couldn’t face the travel that night, I barely wanted to get back into a moving vehicle again. We stopped at the local showgrounds who turned us away and there appeared to be nowhere else in town. So we made our planned stop for groceries and happened to see a vacant motel across the road. I was so relieved to crawl into a flat, stable bed!

It was definitely not my best day. I tried not to be grumpy, but definitely was anxious and frustrated. Thankfully I slept well that night. Though my appetite was poor, partly due to nausea and partly due to pain. We went to bed hoping for more clarity in the morning. 

Day 13: tourists in Canberra

On our last whole day in Canberra we did a self-guided walking tour. First we went to see a local doctor. I’d been experiencing pain in my jaw and wondered if it was an ear infection. Turned out I wasn't. The doctor thought TMJ (jaw joint) pain due to more teeth grinding than I usually engage in. He gave me pain killers and told me to eat softer food for a few days. I hoped that as we decompressed in the coming days the pain would subside.

We stopped for an early lunch because there was a nice little bakery near the doctor, then we walked and walked. In fact we did a lot of walking in Canberra. After struggling to find parking for the tall motorhome on our way in on Thursday, we decided we’d try not to use the vehicle to get around while we were there. It is a bit of a business to pack everything up to drive, so you could put it down to laziness…except that it meant we walked an average of four and a half kilometres a day during our five day stay.

After lunch we walked to Lake Burley Griffin, a major feature of the city, named after the couple who designed the city. The walk we took around the central portion of the lake included most of a path called the R G Menzies Walk, named in acknowledgement of Sir Robert Menzies, Australia’s longest serving prime minister, who played a large part in the development of the city and the lake. 

Lake Burley Griffin

We stopped along the route quite a few times, reading plaques, enjoying the view, admiring statues and flags, trees and memorials. Towards the end we found the National Capital Exhibition, a free museum, where we learned much about how Canberra came to be selected as Australia's national capital, the city's design, and development. The settlement was just a village when it was announced as the future capital in 1913, 12 years after Australia was declared its own country (Federation, 1 Jan, 1901). And parliament only started meeting in the city in 1927! The city’s design is the result of an international competition won by an American (and his wife). It’s fascinating to see evidence that Australia struggled for a long time to be confident in the cleverness of its own people: places like Canberra and the Sydney Opera House were designed by non-Aussies. This Australian characteristic is known as “cultural cringe”. Thankfully we’re growing out of that!

I picked up a brochure at the National Capital Exhibition about the walk and realised that we’d seen quite a lot of things in our slow wanderings. We saw:

• 
  Captain Jamies Cook Memorial—Cook is the British explorer who “claimed” Australia for the Brits.
• Blundell’s Cottage—build in 1860, well before Canberra was the capital.
  
• Australians of the Year Walk—plaques for each year, so many familiar names!
• International Flag Display—representing those nations that maintain a diplomatic presence in Canberra.
• Even a Japanese Cherry Tree grove presented to Australia by the Japanese Prime Minister in 1980. Nara, an ancient capital of Japan, is one of Canberra’s sister cities.

It was a good long meander. We stopped by St John the Baptist Anglican Church and their graveyard as we got close to "home". It’s a historical church that predates Canberra by a long way (consecrated in 1845). I was surprised to find a bamboo cross gifted to the church in 1950 by an Anglican Church in Japan. The cross is inscribed with the words Reconciliation and Repentance. It was given in relation to the members of the church who were killed by Japanese in New Guinea during the Pacific War. (Read more here)

We went back at night time for a couple more photos, because the church is beautifully lit at nighttime.

It was a good day, but I can’t deny that it was shrouded with some pain for me. Eating, in particular, had become painful. Before dinner I took two of the strong painkillers that were prescribed for me early in the day, which helped, but also caused nausea later and I didn’t manage to keep my dinner down. Of course the slight rocking of the motorhome doesn’t help at such times! So the day ended with me retiring to bed very quickly and with no desire to read at all (very unusual).

And that was our first day of long service leave. Not bad, but I can’t deny that I was keen to move on to somewhere a little less urban.

The truth about journeying with illness that isn’t physical

Monday was international mental health awareness day and as this is something that has become part of my family's life over the last few years, I have been pondering how to write about it. I'm hesitant, but last week I was encouraged by two separate people within an hour of one another, that telling our stories is valuable and important, something I know, but need reminding of occasionally. And another person on the same day asked about my writing. All of this was a reminder that God has given me a gift for writing, so I should use it, even when it is a little bit scary. For though I’ve talked to various people about portions of the journey that our family have been on with mental illness, writing it in a public forum is a different level. I’m scared to hit publish on this post!

Until mental illness became part of my own family's story, I knew little about it. Though possibly I knew more than some as my university degree touched on it. But I consciously tried to stay as far away from having to interact with this topic and this “scene” as I could, until it appeared under my own roof and I couldn't run any more. I’m writing for those of you who have no experience of living with someone with a mental illness, that you might know some of the struggles we have. But I also write for the other parents out there who are quietly, perhaps silently, struggling.

I recently got quite upset when someone wrote on their social media page that they'd never heard a negative comment about their child. It's difficult to imagine a life like that. I'd like to be someone who hasn't had to talk to teachers about their child's behaviour (behaviour that stemmed from a neurodevelopmental disorder and mental illness). I'd like to be someone who hasn't had to take their child to a psychologist for an assessment and had a diagnosis (or several) presented to them. I'd like to be someone who hasn't had to research psychiatric drugs and sit in a psychiatrist's office.

I'm scarred because I've heard mothers of classmates of my son say things that show they don't understand their kids are barely aware that my son is in their class, let alone that he’s struggling. And I’m wounded because another mother told me she'd hate to have a child with a disability. So

This little plant is thriving in a hard place. That's what I want to see me and my family doing too. 

I hesitate to share about our experience because I know there are people out there who simply aren't interested in understanding.

But what I was most sad about when I started this blog post the other day is that someone may think that they have never heard a negative thing about their child because they are great parents and have, in their own power and strength, raised amazing children.

I know that I haven't been a perfect parent and that my kids have not had a perfect childhood, but I can't allow myself to be ashamed that they've struggled. That we've struggled as a family. A lot of what's happened isn't my fault, and nor is it the fault of my children.

I wish I didn't have the knowledge that suicidal thoughts are part of one of my son's experience. I wish that another of my sons hadn't had someone close to him take her life.

I wish that our dinner times had been ones of great conversation and connection over the years. We’ve often struggled, and it’s not because we don’t value that time. We’ve tried, really hard, every day, but dinners are still often a struggle. Polite conversation is not something everyone does well, or happily. I wish I could say I hadn’t felt judged because of my kids’ social skills.

Mental illness in a teenager is difficult because it is very often not easy to diagnose. It masquerades as a lack of motivation, as belligerence, as disobedience, as stubbornness, or a lack of confidence, and many other ways that look like behavioural issues, not illness.

For example: Is not sitting with anyone at lunchtime at school worthy of concern? Are they shy and prefer their own company, or do they lack the same interests or social skills as other children, are they the victim of bullying, or are they socially anxious, or do the sounds that other people make when they eat bother them? As they get older: not being able to get assignments in on time: is that just poor organisation, or is it because they have trouble concentrating, or are they depressed and struggling with motivation? Or is the effort just to get out of the house and interact with others through the day draining them of all the energy they have and there’s none left for doing difficult assignments?

I wish I was someone who could talk freely with my son about future plans. Plans for college or work; about the big, hairy audacious goals that some young people have. For several years we’ve struggled to talk to him about the next week. Anxiety takes a toll and makes planning for the next day hard, let alone planning for the start of life after high school.

As a parent of someone with mental illness, I've had to be hypervigilant at times (and I know that is the case for some parents of kids with other disorders also, like epilepsy and some kids on the Autistic Spectrum). Hypervigilance is exhausting. It's a hidden hurdle a parent must overcome to participate in daily life outside the home. If you have to be hypervigilant, it's important to take care of yourself and please don't feel you have to make excuses.

Mental illness in your house means you become a buffer between your child and the rest of the world. An advocate too, if you choose to be. I've had to spend a lot of time explaining our son and our family to others. Explaining why my son isn't getting out of bed at an "appropriate" time, explaining why he's wearing headphones, or why he's hitting his head. I've had to explain why he's not participating in polite dinner conversation or why he won't share a bedroom with his brother when we're traveling.

We've had to adjust our family's life and our parenting in so many big and small ways, it is hard to even remember them all now because many have become instinctual. It's only when other people see us behaving in a way they don't think is normal that we remember (and may have to explain).

Grief is part of all this and I guess that is part of why I feel this so deeply when people "boast" about their brilliant kids. I grieve that my family has suffered in this way. I am sad that what seems easy to some, is a battle for us. On a bad day it's tough to keep looking upwards, to trust that our God loves us and our kids as much as he says he does. To know that he goes before us, and that our situation is known to him. 

The other side of transitionitis

Driving home on Tokyo's expressways late on a 
Sunday night is a pretty pleasant experience. I'm
just glad I was a passenger, I was too tired to drive!

I'm on the other side! 

If you're wondering how the rest of our trip went, it was relatively smooth. Our hostess in Brisbane actually drove us to our airport-adjacent hotel (over an hour and a half), and we stayed there on Saturday night. It was a blessed time in the "airlock" between countries and on Sunday morning we experienced the easiest transfer to an international airport we've ever had: walking 50m to the terminal. We spent twice as long as we'd expected in that airport. The usual story we're hearing from airlines these days: various baggage handling and other difficulties that delayed our takeoff nearly three hours. But it wasn't our problem. We had two jobs: to wait patiently and mind our own needs. 

We eventually took off on our 8+ hr flight and arrived about 10pm. Moving through health-app checks, immigration, collecting baggage, and customs didn't take very long and we soon were greeted by David who switched our SIM cards (yes, this is part of our international travel these days) and drove us home. I collapsed into my own bed at 12.50 am.

Our trip to Australia was a much thought about, much discussed event for months leading up to it. Most of our time wasn't recreational, though it wasn't madly rushing around working either. It was a complicated trip, with messy goals and lots of things about it were unclear, even to us. So I'm really glad to be past that now.

Now I'm on the other side (of transitionitis) my sleep is settling down, my digestion (and pooping) is improving, my concentration and emotions are also settling. I'm guessing that I'm no longer running on a high level of alertness and adrenaline and that's where some of my fatigue is coming from. I'm hoping my stamina and health in general is improving. While I was away from Japan, I've had two viral infections (including COVID), one fungal infection, and one bacterial. At times it's been a battle to stay positive despite the illness and disruption to routines. 

On Monday, less than 24 hours after I arrived back in Tokyo, David and I took a short walk after dinner. It was shortened both by the onset of rain and my lack of lung capacity. Yes, I still am battling a respiratory infection and the asthma that goes with it. While we were walking, though, we pondered how difficult it had been to get exercise while we were away. We had little routine, we changed locations a number of times and had different interpersonal obligations with some of our time. It's lovely to be getting back to usual routines and a more healthy lifestyle.

On Tuesday David took some time off to drive us to the immigration office an hour south of here to pick up our new visas and resident cards. We wondered if that was the right thing, but it turned out I really needed his support. I was exhausted and sick and simply didn't have the energy to much more than being a passenger.

Since then I've gradually been increasing my hours working at my desk, and gradually taking on more household management tasks. But I'm still planning to "lie low" until at least Monday, giving my body maximum opportunity to recover.

This has been a big undertaking, not a fun "holiday jaunt". I'm feeling hopeful that in the long-term this has been a worthwhile exercise; a fruitful time in which we used our limited resources as well as we could manage. It will be interesting to look back at it all in a couple of years; hopefully we'll be able to see many more of the positive, intangible things that have been achieved.

An international friend and I have been reminding one another all year about our God who "goes before us" (Deut. 31:8). That's really been the theme for the year. Continuing to trust him in the midst of the stress, anxiety, and uncertainty is both my daily challenge and my testimony as I walk each day by faith.