I am currently having one of those bucket list trips, you know the ones, those trips where there are so many beautiful incredible moments, that you know not only has your heart been forever changed, but your life becomes more, bigger some how.
Only one week into a 4 week trip, and as I sit here in this rare quiet moment, and look out the window at St Elmo Bay in Valletta Malta, the sun is setting, and the universe once again reminds me of all its beauty, with hues of orange and pink across the sky. I feel so very blessed to be able to experience this adventure. Having so far visited Rome, Polignano a mare, Alberobello, the Amalfi Coast including Sorrento and Positano and now Malta.
Something has sparked another little light in me these past 2 days. It’s taken me forever, but I’ve finally made it to the country of my heritage. My dad is Maltese and he left Malta in 1953 at the age of 8 and due to varying circumstances has never been able to return. I don’t think I really ever understood my heritage, until now. I’ve learnt so much about Malta in these few days, especially around their part in the 1st and 2nd world war and the almost total destruction of this tiny country and how it had to be totally rebuilt. It is steeped in history. A proud country with so much to offer.
My grandparents were living here at the time of the war and my grandfather fought in the war, but I really did not comprehend the impact of what they lived through. My dad and his seven siblings as children were born as the war ended and within a few years they migrated to Australia.
I feel like this place has enveloped me in a big warm hug. The type of hug you get from someone who has missed you. The type of hug that holds a longing, with feelings and a slow burning yearning. The type of hug I never knew was even missing. Australia is my home but Malta, this magical little country now holds a piece of my heart.
I am half Maltese and I don’t think I really appreciated that the way I should have. I have Mediterranean blood running through my veins. I have descendants born in a country that holds such a highly valued place in history. An exotic and eclectic place, saturated in a diverse culture. And I have finally made it here, and a few little pieces of me have slipped into place, there all along, but just needed to be found. A tree who has just discovered deep down, she has even more beautiful roots.
To my dad, I’m proud of my heritage.