Our last day

Tomorrow evening 8pm we fly out. Some 26 hours of flying, 5hrs in Singapore and 2 hours of driving later, we will be on the doorstep of home, eagerly awaiting two little men's arms and cuddles and excited voices. And this time here will feel like a dream, for both Sam and I. What a precious amazing time it's been. Today I raced out early again to frinton village to find a few things I really wanted to bring home, and most importantly visit Bambi, the sweet shop. The owner has been there forever, so I took a photo of the kids with him, and picked up the rhubarb and custard sweets which I plan to sell to high price to my uk friends back home ;) We drove on to beach hut 365 to catch up albeit briefly with Sarah Johnstone. Loved actually being inside a beach hut, and was so lovely to meet her. She brought a photo album of memory lane, which I loved as much as Sam. Some of the photos I've seen before, but when you can place them in a setting you've seen, and smelt the smells, it's like it becomes real. Sometimes I realise how much I've adopted the English culture and how much Sam has adopted mine. Strangely, I feel at times more home here. Subtle differences but I wonder at times how much my European .. English/ Estonian ancestory impacts my innate sense of cultural norm, or how much being married to Sam has shaped it. Sam on the other hand fairly grieved the America cup loss and followed it faithfully while here, the impact of it causing him to realise how very Kiwi he is. We drove straight to Nans house so Sam could have one final look through, probably the last time ever. Took video and photos and then drove to kings cliff for Nans official birthday lunch. It was a small affair and lovely. Sam had time to sit and talk to nan to try and dig into her memories and make some connections between the stranger he seems to her now, and the little lad she knew. All conversations start with "it's Sam, Derek's son" and slowly work backwards. Some moments were hilarious such as when Sam said "do you remember i used to mow your lawn every Saturday and she gave him this delighted look like 'how very nice of you young man, whoever you are, to do that'. Eventually she remembered Sam as a little baby with his twin sister Becky in the pram. But beyond that, the memories are locked away. I was glad to be behind the camera, blinking back my tears. Dear Nan, thank you for the love and prayers you poured into Sam, the currant cookies and soup and meals you fed him, the way you encouraged him. I remember you telling me how you would read my letters about being married to Sam and you loved how much you could see I adored being married to him. Nan, Sam is a treasure and you are a Godly jewel in his genealogy. God has blessed you with long life, and although your memory now fails, we remember for you the precious sweetness of your life. Old age has stripped from you the ability to recall facts and faces, strength in your body and weight from your bones, but dear lady, you are beautiful. Elegant. Graceful. What is left of you remains the loveliness God has shaped. I love you Nan. Happy 100th birthday!! Sam kissed her goodbye and stood for a moment at the door beholding her, knowing this will be the last time he will see her. It was hard but with her failing memory, it felt like goodbye had happened already.. And what we werevsaying goodbye to was a beautiful fading shell. Went straight to Dan and Clare's which is like stepping into 'home'. We all went to the local pub for tea where Sam caught up also with his friends Ben and johnny. Sams out hanging with Dan while I pack up and the kids sleep. God, thank you for this incredible incredible trip.