What better time to have surgery, go through recovery and get the worst of the adjustment period out of the way while your expenses are as low as they'll ever get, you're at home with your family to care for you and you have the ability to work from bed?
It hasn't been pretty. There have been many days where I've gone running to Mum just for a hug and a tangiweto because I was in physical pain or because I was struggling to cope with this new life or maybe even just because I felt sorry for myself and was being a sook that day, who knows? But every time she was there with no judgment.
Lately she's been letting me pick food off her plate. I'm having some wicked nausea these days (a pregnant woman told me I'm acting like a pregnant woman, if that gives you any sense of how bad things are) and I can't be bothered dishing up a tiny plate of food I'm only going to eat a bite of so I just pick off Mum's plate and she gives me a spare fork and saves the best bits for me and it makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Nana has been a lifesaver too, driving me around to appointments when I couldn't drive, stocking up on yoghurt and sugar-free Powerade and hot chocolate, singlehandedly knitting me a queen-sized comfort blanket in record time (because I've been that much of a big baby) and even giving up her bed for me when I was recovering (yes, I protested and no, she didn't listen).
So while home, to me, is many things - my small town of Te Puke, being near the ocean, being around dogs - most of all, home is whānau, and all the safety, security, care, unconditional love and support that comes with that.
I'm moving back to Auckland soon and, while I am sad to leave, the idea of home is not one that I can leave behind because that type of energy is one that stays with you in your heart no matter where you go and the beauty of home is it'll always be there, waiting for me to come back.
Next week: Steve Braunias
