The only time my husband and I take an early morning flight is from England to Malaysia. Up at 5am and out the door by 6am to catch the 10am flight home when the leavers (us) and remainers (family) are still half-awake and a little groggy from sleep. I dread the leave day as it is hard saying goodbye to family.

No matter what I say to rationalise and convince myself, it’s never easy. At least with an early morning flight, we get the goodbyes quickly out of the way, jump into our car and focus on arriving at the airport. It’s usually a quiet drive, each occupied in our own thoughts. We do feel better once we have checked in, had a bit of breakfast and made calls to our family.

Our conversation invariably focuses on how quickly our holiday has come and gone.  Holidays take the longest to start, and the quickest to finish. There is a lot of excitement involved in deciding on the dates, booking flights, packing, waiting to leave, and then, whoosh, it is all behind us, and we wonder whether we even had a holiday. To make matters worse, we fall back into our old routines so annoyingly easily, it’s like we never left.  Luckily for memories, photos and Instagram – pleasant reminders and visual proof that we indeed had a holiday.

My sister left for her home in England on Tuesday. She was, in turn, the leaver and we were the remainers. Here for a three-week holiday to especially help my mum with the Deepavali preparations, my sister, bless her heart, has been faithfully returning home annually as sous chef for the celebration. With my mum’s advancing age, my sister was recently promoted to head chef (in a two-person kitchen) and was entrusted with all the baking and cooking, which she did efficiently and deliciously.

I knew in my head and heart that she had to go home. She has a husband, who was looking forward to seeing her. They talked on the phone every day. My oldest sister (who also lives in England) called regularly and kept in touch via text messages as did my two nieces. They updated her on happenings in their lives, and sent photos of our soon to be four-year old grandniece, doing pre-school lessons with her mum and in a Halloween costume.  My sister had to go home and back to work, which she still enjoys.  She said she has many friends, which I believe, based on the number of t-shirts, bags, food items and other touristy things she bought at Central Market, KLCC and a few other places. The shops did well, thanks to my sister. She also has a garden that has been waiting for her attention.  And, of course, her neighbours and their little dog that she bought two squeaky toys for.

There is no logic or sense in feeling sad or upsetting myself, but I did and do anyway.  I miss her, and wish she was still here at my mum’s where I could drop by for a chat, have chocolate and ‘kuih’ (which we did a lot), have a laugh over silly stuff or just be.

I have three other sisters who live abroad and come to Malaysia once a year. My mum is the main attraction, not the Twin Towers or The KL Tower. They too, do a fair bit of shopping and eating whilst here.   As an aside, I think my mum deserves her own postage stamp for her contribution to the tourism industry, and domestic economy.

It’s fun having my sisters around.  They are like good, reliable friends. They listen and remember. They care and do. Sometimes, they love and care too much. But, best of all, they know what I am talking about without me having to explain every detail from the very beginning. We just understand each other. And when their holidays come to an end, which is almost always too quickly, the gamut of emotions emerge, every single time. The remainer (me), gets sad and teary although I know fully well the leavers have to go home.  Having resided overseas for many decades, my sisters’ lives and families belong there, not here. Despite the heartache of goodbyes, that ‘butterflies in the belly eager-can’t wait feeling’ of looking forward to their arrival and knowing that we will be spending time together, reminiscing and doing stuff, however short it always seems, is worth it.  It really is.

I sometimes think the better holidays are the ones that do not involve visiting family as it is so much easier on the heart and general well-being. My husband and I can merrily fly to wherever we want, enjoy the whole experience of arriving, visiting, and departing from whatever airport in whichever country. No one to wave good-bye to or to miss dearly.