Living History

A flight to Melbourne

My choice to migrate was driven by ideas of adventure and optimism mixed with a certain heady recklessness as myself and my family found ourselves on a flight to Melbourne in 1988 with little idea of the reality of the enormity of the move. I had said "See you later" to my family as if I were off for a dandther* before tea...

Up to this point my life had been divided neatly into parcels of time. I was born in "God's Country" where I lived 19 years. This was followed by my "English period", where I had gone to study with a plan to return home. However fate delivered me a beautiful, exotic man from another island across the world which stalled my home-going plans. 19 years passed, interrupted very joyously by the arrival of 2 incredibly magnificent children, my daughter and son.

The glorious weather, an English speaking country and the glamour of such different flora and fauna to be explored drew us to Australia. Thatcherism and racism assisted in the decision.

The early period in Australia was marked by confusion in the struggle to name the differences and similarities. In fact everything was different. It was only the minutiae of life that made up the rhythmic pattern of everyday life - work, school, friends, food - that was the same. It was the same but nothing was familiar. A nagging feeling of dislocation dogged my early days as I threw myself energetically into connecting the family into the local community.

What helped was the welcoming, unreserved hospitality of the Australian women I met who shared their lives and laughs with me. My only regrets are the loss of family and friends whose lives journeyed on on the other side of the world without me.

Another 19 years is drawing to a close. My feet are beginning to paw again under the table...

Sheelagh, Melbourne, Victoria

* Irish expression for wandering

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