Sunday, February 22, 2009

You can't go home again

Tonight is my last night at home. We spent the day packing, cramming my mountains of stuff into two bags, then taking it all out in a fruitless search for a bikini top, and cramming it all in again. Somehow, despite the fact that I've pared down my items as much as I possibly can, it's still barely fitting. Oh, it'll fit, but it's fighting for freedom every moment in the bag.

I am under the weight limit, though, and most of weight/extra crap is...books. Too many books, but I refuse to leave any of them at home. I even went out and bought two more (an autobiography of a US spy in the middle east, and a Doctor Who novelization because I am a nerd) to add to my Catcher in the Rye, Geography of Bliss, Short History of Nearly Everything (best book in the universe), Cosmos, I Know How the Caged Bird Sings, All Things Bright and Beautiful, two handmade (not by me) journals, a knitting manual, a book on how to play the guitar, and one or two others I can't remember. Then there's also all of the notes and notebooks full of information on my book, and my Mr. Winkle calender.

Right now I'm sitting at the table in the kitchen, with my mom pulling the juice from the big fat juicy amazing turkey that the centerpiece of my final meal. We're having mashed potatoes and gravy, butternut squash, rutabaga, fresh green beans, oh dear I'm so hungry now. A tivoed Sunday morning is playing on the television, my dog is lying curled up on the floor, the fire is going and the cold February wind is blowing outside. The sky is muted shades of blue, purple, and orange, and clumps of today's show shower cling to the ground.

My mom just came up and gave me a kiss with a tear in her eye. We've all been fighting tears(not all of us successfully) for days now. Especially today. I've been pretty good so far, but I nearly lost it when my brother called to say I love you, and I stood with my parents thinking how lucky and blessed I am to have such an amazing, wonderful, unsurpassable family.

And that is what I will miss. Not the things, the showers, the tv shows, the luxuries, though I will have many moments where I'll wish I had those. It's snuggling with my mom on the couch; fighting with my sister for who gets to nap on the dog bed in front of the fire; sitting outside in the summertime with the flowers blooming and watching the three dogs tussling in the grass, my mom sipping her wine cooler demurely; going for long, slow drives with my dad; dancing crazy with my mom in the kitchen; making up dog songs; playing cards; warm hugs; the overflowing rush I love I get when I set foot in this house. We are not a perfect family, but damn do we love, and I wouldn't have us any other way. I will miss miss MISS this place.

Even so, I'm so excited about leaving for Baltimore tomorrow, and then to DC, and then to Quito, and Cayambe. I'm been stagnant for too long, my head to too buzzy with unrealized ambitions, and I need to move on, travel and learn and have adventures and put myself out there. I can't wait to get going, to start doing something meaningful with my time, to really live again. I want my life to be enough so that, when I lay dying old in my bed, I can close my eyes and think, yeah, I lived. Not just existed, but really lived. I had a purpose.

That is what the Peace Corps is for me, right now: A meaning to be. A step to the future. A time in my life when I can someday think, those are the years that started it all.

My next post will be from Ecuador! I love you all.

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