Australia on Short Notice

It's been awhile since my last post, for semi good reason.  It is a bit ironic that I start with telling some of my earliest memories about my relatives from Australia, and then unexpectedly leave a week later to Australia.

Late on Friday, almost a week after the prior post, I get word that my Australian grandfather passed away.  It was both expected and unexpected.  He had been in poor health for a few years, but stable until that day.

He passed away late on our friday, I bought the ticket late on Saturday, and I left mid Monday.  I arrived late morning on Wednesday, and spent Wednesday fighting jet lag and working on both a eulogy and the photo slideshow used during the luncheon of the funeral.

I spent two and a half weeks in Australia, and unlike last year where I spent every waking moment either visiting relatives or playing tourist, I was able to do fairly normal things.  I felt more like I was living there and less like I was vacationing.

Growing Up International: Visitors in the Night

I will be doing a series of posts about my international experience.

My first international experience started before I was even born. My father is from a small town in Idaho, and my mother grew up in a large city in Australia.

My mother always dreamed of coming to America, and she was nineteen when she did.  She enrolled at a community college in Rexburg, Idaho and met my father at a church function.  They dated, married, and started a family.  They made the trip to Australia twice before I was born.  The last time they went, my mother was pregnant with me.

My mother had an accent while I grew up, she still does, although it has faded and changed.  I always knew she was different, from somewhere else.  When I first started going to school, the other kids made it clear to me that I had a bit of an accent as well, something that must have rubbed off on me from my mother.

It was always my claim to fame.  When it came time to share what was unique or interesting about us, I was the kid with the mother from Australia!

It was not only my mother. My mother’s family would make trips and visit us at what seemed like random intervals.  Things would be going normal, and then suddenly one night we’d have a visitor show up after dark.  They spoke differently, but similar to my mother. They brought gifts, which were often plush koalas or things showing kangaroos.  They talked about life in a different part of the world.

I loved thesevisits.  I loved learning about other parts of the world.  I think my love of cultures and of travel started early.  I was born in America, but I wasn't just American.