The only reason for time is so that everything doesn’t happen at once.  Albert Einstein

One week until I finish at The Northern Hospital, a place that feels like home.  I have so many colleagues I will never work with again, and it makes me really sad when I think of it.

One week until I move home and be a full time Mum again, if only for a month.  It’s been four years since I have been at home full time, back when Mr A was only a baby and I was waiting to commence training again.

Two weeks until we say goodbye to Doncaster Church of Christ (February 8).  I have attended there since I was two, and Luke and I met and married there.  We have been members for most of our married life, and the kids have never known a different church family.

Three weeks until our house must be packed, into storage and cases, and we leave Australia.  We will be temporarily homeless.  Both Luke and I are feeling shaken by that, and the kids are on edge, although we are not discussing it out loud.  Our current house has been home for eleven years.  I remember bringing all our babies home to it, and my memories of their early years are tied up with the rooms and backyard.  Birthday parties, barbeques and that disastrous attempt to have MissZ and Mr J share a room.

We’ll spend a week on the way relaxing on a beach, and apologising to the kids for our crankiness while packing.

Four weeks until we arrive in Kathmandu (20 February).   We will explore the capital, but also surf the bureaucracy to get our visas and my medical registration organised.  Once that is done, we will attend a weekend conference of one of the mission agencies.

Five weeks until we arrive in Tansen, and I meet my new hospital.  And we find our new home.

The more one does and sees and feels, the more one is able to do, and the more genuine may be one’s appreciation of fundamental things like home, and love, and understanding companionship. Amelia Earhart.