I write during the Covid19 pandemic, my parents are visiting after changing their flights due to restrictions on Spain. The world is still surreal in many ways, not least with the politics of masks and education.

My parents and brother are staying close, but not with us. It has been hard. There have been fights. Too many words said and not said, too many feelings blown up over the smallest triggers – I feel sad, but also stronger.

This trip had expectations of joy and laughter, of long walks and talks and cuddles and tears … there has been all of that, but in a very different way. I have grown distant, settled into a groove of life that I am proud of, but that has also made me very protective.

I think, as with all family trips, there are always things I would change, but I also believe that these hard parts are the parts that provide a real test of love and strength. I can see how my mother watches my children, with love and joy so immense she can barely contain it. I see her eyes fill with sadness and joy simultaneously, and I do wonder if it would be the same if we lived closer. Probably not.

I see my father create worlds of imagination with Theo, and talk in silly rhymes with Ila-Rae; he tells me he doesn’t want to get too attached and I understand, deeply I do, because I have for so long protected myself by staying distant from those I want and need most. It works, and I know that ultimately we will be okay, but it is also futile, because my kids adore their grandparents, and when they leave, it will hit hard. That’s part of life.

I see my brother too, whom I haven’t seen in over a year, play with his nephew and niece with such overwhelming love. He has a lot of learning to do in his life and I struggle with him the most out of these 3, because I have little people to protect and I do so fiercely. My brother threatens my sense of comfort with them, he doesn’t know it yet, but his small comments and actions that undermine my parenting put me on edge, because although he loves them, my anxiety levels are at an all time high.

The truth is, I didn’t expect to be so anxious with these people around. They raised me… and yet, I feel they no longer know me. I have moved into circles they know little about, and I have experiences they cannot relate to. I also no longer know them – our puzzle pieces are distorted. I had hoped we would make them fit, but as I write I realise that maybe we need to try making a new picture with them, one with different rules and colours, so that our pieces lay next to each other happily, even if they aren’t able to interlock anymore.

I am not sure where I go from here with my family, they have 1 full day left of their trip and 1 morning after. It isn’t a long time. It doesn’t feel like long enough for anything, but it also enough time to try and reconnect a little, like I do with Theo, because really, when I see them, I see love.

Love for me
Love for my children
Love to see them smile
To hold them
To play
Love to watch them
and
To Just Be.