A Flicker of Time

On the 9th of April 2005, my Fenech relatives celebrated the 50th anniversary since the family immigrated to Australia. My grandfather had made his way over six months previously, but April 1955 was when my grandmother and her four surviving children arrived. At around 40 years of age already, my grandparents were older immigrants than most.

It must have been traumatic for my family to leave behind their close-knit, loving extended family and friends in Malta for a great unknown. A photograph exists of my father as a toddler, on a loved rocking horse made by his father, left behind with many of the family possessions. While long forgotten, some family members were very upset at the decision to move at the time.

Yet I doubt that anyone in the family today regrets the decision to move. Australia is a massive country, where most people have a backyard and if you are willing to live a fair way outside of the city, it's achievable to own a couple of hectares of land and a cow or a horse. As well as the attraction and benefits of wide open spaces, Australia's larger population presents significant economic benefits and employment opportunities. Beyond that, in common with Malta, Australia is a friendly, likable place.

The family has broadly thrived in Australia. None of the third generation are likely to be fully Maltese in ethnicity. While I will forever be wanting to make another longer stay in Malta, I can not currently see myself living in Malta. I adore Australia's wide open spaces and varied opportunities.

Or perhaps, I lack the courage of my grandmother, Inez, to leave most of what and whom I love behind in the hope of something better. This is in a way my grandmothers story, for it all follows that one decision she made to move the family to Australia all those years ago. My grandmother terrified me as a child with her intensity, yet my brief time in Malta has shifted my first sentiment from one of fear to one of respect.