EMIGRANT SONG

One of my best new friends (come to think of it, perhaps my only new friend from my forties) is soon going to be flying away, perhaps even today, towards a brave new life half way around the globe, and, whilst I'm utterly happy for them to have managed to escape from this wretched hive of scum and villainy and have been hugely impressed by the long and difficult journey they have made to be allowed to emigrate, and the further difficult journey it sounds like they have had to transport their worldly goods along there with them to Canada, all this despite the fact that one of them already is Canadian, I can't help but be a little bit sad about it, too...

Happysad, happysad…

You see, I got to an age in my life when I really thought that I wouldn't make a new friend... and then I did. Despite our disparate lives, the fates drove us together to be on the same Nile River Boat at the same time, and we kind of clicked over a bird-watching trip and a "Prisoner Number 6" novelty watch, and we've stayed in touch, usually via long, rambling email rant, but occasionally in person, ever since.

And now, here we are...

The week has actually arrived in which the family leave for their exciting new life across the Atlantic and I really am extraordinarily happy for them, but I still remain just a tiny bit sad, too, if you can understand that…?

But I have no doubts that, despite all of the angst, adversity and frustration that they've been through to get to this point, and the fear of the future that is probably flitting through their various minds as they set out into an unknown future, that they are, as a family, going to cope with it all wonderfully and be, as the saying goes, bloody brilliant at whatever it is they do.

And do you know why I know this? Because they are one of the strongest, toughest, and most able group of people that I have ever had the privilege of knowing and, as some of you may know - even if you don't actually care - it takes a hell of a lot to impress me.

I got a long letter from him last week, sent just before their computer equipment got packaged up and put inside a crate for container shipping to their new home, and, as a kind of proof to you - but, perhaps also to them, of how utterly superb they are going to be, and the sheer strength they have between them, I wanted to quote in full the lovely paragraph he wrote about his wife and what happened as she was in the process of leaving the job she adored, as well as the witty coda which is still making me chuckle a week later.

I hope that they don't mind me sharing this. I did want to ask permission first, but I think that the last minute chaos, and the fact that all of their stuff is now in packing cases has meant that communications have been rather troublesome of late, so, despite trying, I've decided to just run with it anyway and hope that the faux pas isn't TOO huge....

J is remaining her usual buoyant self, throughout, and has finally finished work, which she is struggling with, as she loved her job. She was given the most amazing leaving gifts; a Maori cloak that is traditionally only given as a mark of extreme respect among very few people, and hardly any westerners. It is handmade and stunning, it must have taken months of work and it’s worth a fortune. She was lost for words at such a high honour, in recognition of all her work in preserving one of the only Maori meeting temples outside of New Zealand. She was also given a substantial painting by a fairly famous artist, which we need to insure for £3000, apparently, which was a bit of a shocker. We’re having a special create made for it so that it can be transported. Plus, she was also given the cost to have a unique gold ring designed and made especially for her. I have spent the last month being told what a massive contribution and difference she has made not just to the properties that she manages, but to all of the outlying villages too, by people who are complete strangers to me. It makes me right proud of her, and she has been so shocked by all of the tributes and lovely things people have said, as she said to me, she didn’t expect anything like this.

I worked for the government for 14 years and all I got was a book, but then I was simply grateful in the end to escape from such a poisonous atmosphere and the clutches of the vile king gnome himself, the now demoted Gove, may he rot in eternal damnation.

Note to R - If this really is too squirmingly embarrassing, especially coming from a dyed-in-the-wool, stiff-upper-lip type, it'll be removed in a jiffy, but I did want you to just know how highly regarded you all are on this side of "The Pond", how much we are going to miss you, and how much respect and admiration we have for what you are doing.

Good luck, my friend, all the best, and…

Bon voyage!