There and Back Again
Astronomers know the colour of objects depend on their relative motion and so they calibrate the red-shift of fast moving celestial bodies. In a dimension we cannot track with our measures Nadia has accelerated and her spectrum has stretched. The way she sees things has shifted. But in our world the only thing we can see is that she has new eyes.
In February we put Nadia on the plane to Delhi. She went with her friend Sarah. They are diminutive, they are each other’s life long friend, and that day they were squeaky with excitement. We were escorting two young hobbits to the edge of the Shire.The respective families had bought the round-the-world tickets but each young girl had earned the money for their adventure. We had a goodbye dinner in Chiswick with their cousins, who are mostly my children, and by the time we had got to Terminal 3 it was thronging. Suddenly we were at the frosted glass portal of Departures and it was very emotional. Mike made jokes as we men do at these occasions and I had one of those moments. This place was all about leave takings, everywhere there were similar scenes, but I was in this scene experiencing these feelings and I was both in the scene and in rotation around it. It was utterly ordinary and quite extraordinary. I was standing next to this Chinese woman, holding her hand, regarding these kids who were not hers and not mine but somehow now both of ours.
Then it was Nadia’s turn to say goodbye to Julie and me. I held her tight and she was sobbing. I didn’t need to tell her that Mike and Betty were going to be fine without her – her tears told her that. I needed to speak the words I had been told the last time I had cried. I had been in Windsor and a man I hardly knew and old enought to be my father had held me. I told her what Ken told me. I told Nadia she was wonderful.
As we turned the car into the traffic I saw what had else had occured in our exchanges at the terminal. A baton had changed hands. I asked Julie if she remembered how I had explained our roles when we moved to Brighton. ”Do you remember how I said we would be acting in loco parentis? Well, we can drop the in loco now.” Julie squirmed ”I love it when you talk Latin….”
Six months later threading the mini out of the same Heathrow multi-storey I knew Julie would not wait so I told Nadia to answer the phone. ”Julian was in tears” was the first thing I heard her say. It was true. Sarah’s sister has yelped – it’s them! – and then there they were, two of them, paired and backpacked, faces the colour of coffee, hair washed, walking toward us and smiling, smiling, smiling. Mike went first and then I leaned over the rail, hugged Nadia and hugged her again. I wanted longer but could only think Betty! where is Betty? I must make way for Betty! And then I saw her movement in my leftfield. She had run away from us, around the barrier and was moving fast, up stream, against the tide of travelers and trolleys.
Lucy had looked at me thoughtfully one day and said there is only one word for Betty and that is Dinky. Mum calls her my pinkest grand-daughter. Mum can no longer see and it was my pleasure to read Betty’s Xmas reports to her. I read out the teacher’s straight As and under each, where the student assessed their areas for improvement, I read Betty’s own words. She had found something specific and helpful to say every time. Under soccer we read ”I want to improve my dribbling skills”. And so she has for here she comes, darting and weaving and unstoppable. I released Nadia who turned and Betty struck with an airborne embrace, her arms and legs locking around Nadia. This was her sister, who has always been her mother, and I thought Chinatown. But not in a bad way, in a good way, in a very good way. And I was proud to be there and proud of my cameo role (the chauffeur in this scene). And I recognised that pride: it is the pride of a father looking on. So perhaps these two young women are my daughters now, in some way, for some of the time.
Betty was the first to notice that in addition to her skin Nadia’s eyes had changed colour. They used to be the Arab brown of her father’s but now they were flecked and hazel green. Betty checked: they were Sarah’s colour. Betty, quite unsurprised, explained ”They are the same colour because they have seen the same things”. And indeed they had because barring two worrying nights Nadia had not left Sarah’s side. Back at the portal they had turned once and then they were gone. Gone, out there, to Rohan and Gondor, to Mirkwood and Mordor. And now they are back again, the same but not quite the same.Nadia had sent funny,alarming great-to-read newsy emails but on one occasion she sent me a mail with no others in the name field and I printed it. Her last sentence read ”I have decided that this is the best thing I have ever done in my life. And not in a pretentious ‘I know the meaning of life’ way. I feel more in touch with everything around me and even more so, with myself, than I have ever done before.”
Astronomers know the colour of objects depend on their relative motion and so they calibrate the red-shift of fast moving celestial bodies. In a dimension we cannot track with our measures Nadia has accelerated and her spectrum has stretched. The way she sees things has shifted. But in our world the only thing we can see is that she has new eyes.
Friday also happened to be Sam’s birthday. He was 16 all day but I failed to connect with him until I was in bed and I was actually exhausted and falling asleep. Cradling my mobile I performed – embarassed and hesistant – a crap rendition of Happy Birthday while family and friends sang out in Suffolk. I wanted very much to be there not here and felt run through with the shards of the family I had shattered. I did not however plunge into guilt because I had made and mailed in good time a special birthday card, because Sam had had his Brighton birthday on Tuesday, and because Cornwall last month had been his best holiday ever. I had done well. So I simply felt shit until I went to sleep a litle while later.
I am I reflected a man with a lot of kids to attend to this year and I don’t always get it right. But that’s OK because much of the time I do. And most of the time I love it.