I started packing this weekend. I’m surprised, but it wasn’t as painful as I imagined. I think I am just doing it mechanically…placing things into boxes, dividing things into piles, organizing papers…the fact that I am now leaving the pink cement block house I have called home for two years has not really sunk in.
I am down to less than a month left and a lot of loose ends to tie up. The mountain of tasks to complete in the next four weeks is daunting. Forms to fill out, packing to do, goodbyes to say, plane ticket to buy, interviews to do, and a future to decide. Wow…seeing it all written down like that makes me very nervous. All this change at once is not exactly my forte.
I know from experience that everything will get done, everything will work out, and I will make it through just as I always do. The question I am asking myself right now is, “how painful will this be?” As I study the bare walls and the suitcases piled by the door I begin to let the reality of it all hit me. I feel that sinking hollow sensation in my chest and tears begin to pool in my eyes blurring my vision. In that moment I have the answer…
