Keira moved to Mongolia when she took her first steps, she was just one year old. She is now a feisty four-year-old. Even though we talked it over, and packed all our things, and moved into a new house and unpacked many boxes, I think initially moving back to Australia was just like our annual leave for Keira. After three months she asked me when we were going back to Mongolia. She wasn't impressed with my vague answer – “Oh we live in Sydney now, we might go back to Mongolia to visit one day but I don't know when.”
A week or so later Keira's preschool teacher mentioned that Keira had been talking about Mongolia, and in particular her babysitter. The teacher is great, and had put up a map so Keira could show the class Mongolia. The teacher had also found some pictures of Mongolian people and put them up on the wall. We agreed that it could be good for Keira to bring some Mongolian things to preschool. So we got out Keira's deel, and packed her backpack with the toy ger, camel and little Mongolian people we brought back with us. Keira put on the deel (a warm coat) and wore it when we took her big sister to the bus stop, then wore it on the walk back home, and then on the walk to her preschool. It was about 25 degrees outside. The deel is blue and silver, it was shining in the morning sun.
Her teacher was suitably impressed with the things Keira had brought and I left her there for the day. Later I read in the class journal that Keira had sung them some Mongolian songs and put on a mini fashion show for the class. She also showed them the photo of her with her babysitter and big sister in traditional Mongolian dress. This photo is done traditional Mongolian style, no smiling (which the teacher also noted in the class journal).
When Keira got home she wanted to see a photo of Nymaa (the babysitter) smiling. She asked to hear her talking. So Keira and I sat together at the computer and went through our photos, looking for pictures and video of Nymaa. I don't have any video with Nymaa, a bad oversight on my part in hindsight, but we found many pictures. In looking for pictures we also looked at photos and video of Keira learning to walk in Mongolia, of Keira playing with her best friend Ella, of Keira and Alesia visiting Hotel Mongolia, of toys we left in the apartment in Mongolia.
Nymaa can sew beautifully. Keira still wears many things that Nymaa made for her. She also made her a kangaroo with a small joey in the pouch. I told Keira that if she missed Nymaa she should hold the kangaroo. Later I put on one of the CDs given to us by staff when we left Mongolia. It is typical Mongolian countryside music, with stirring Morin Hurr (horsehead fiddle). Keira came running out of her room - “That's Mongolian music! Is Nymaa in there?” she asked, peering at the CD player. She sat quietly curled up on a chair, listening to the music until I put something else on.
Later that night she came out of her room, holding the kangaroo. “I miss Nymaa” she said, looking so woeful I thought I would cry for her. Chris was home from work by then, and he asked her if she wanted a cuddle. She nodded, so he picked her up and held her. Then she sobbed like her heart was breaking. She knew what she remembered. She knew what she wanted. She didn't want to it to be gone.
Keira is easy to distract, reading stories together, riding the bike to the park, new friends at preschool. Most likely her memories of Nymaa will fade away, until for Keira Nymaa's face is just in photographs, a static image of a person that we will tell her used to look after her when she was little. Or maybe not.
Keira can cry for Nymaa and then run outside and happily swing on the hammock. At once she can hold the feelings of missing Nymaa together with her happiness at being at her new preschool. She is too young yet to think about time (every day she asks me if she is going to school, not understanding yet that she goes three days a week). She is just in the moment, feeling whatever floats to the top of her memories from a particular trigger. She will clutch the kangaroo tightly for a few moments, then put it down and raid the freezer for an iceblock. She will look at Mongolian photos on the computer, then practice typing “K for Keira” on a word document. She doesn't chose to do this. She just does it.
And me? Mongolia showed me that having a "second mother" for my children is a wonderful thing. Keira doesn't love me any less. There is room in her heart for love for many people that will shape her life. Room in my heart too.
