Motherland- a simple word. One that I identify as being the place where one is born, raised and holds much affection. In my marriage, there are two places referred to as this. Each has played a part in the types of people we have become and will help to shape our children. I remember when I was younger, my father would always refer to the 'magical' motherland as the place where life was simple, full of memories of family and experiences. A village, a family, hardship but a place where love and self-belief made people stronger and able to overcome hardships. My parent's generation was the first wave of migrant in the late 60s. They were one of the many people who travelled to Australia just after the abolition of the White immigration policy. They came with little but great hope for the future. Did my parents know that many years down the track, they would still miss there motherland? That they would still be having discussions about it? Cheering for it's successes and holding back their tears for her tragedies?
The man I married behaves in a similar way with endless stories of college antics, history and family stories. It's difficult to be encouraged to visit a place that's different and be expected to hold it with the same affection. To listen to the stories of it's past and share in the saddness of it's present state. To look at his 'motherland' in the way I respect and love mine.............. is a challenge.
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