Less than six hours remain until I’ll be on a plane headed for Houston, Texas, and then on to Miami, Florida. The next day, I’ll be away to Panama.
It still doesn’t seem real.
By now, I’ve been able to accept that I’m going to Miami. Before, all I could do was try to think about the whole thing logically. Logically, I’ll need to pack. Logically, I’ll need to say goodbye. Logically, I need to be prepared for a complete change of lifestyles. Some of the thoughts that flirted through my mind before the logical part could stamp them out included annoyance that I had to pack when I had so many other things to do, because I was just going to have to unpack and put everything away again when I had packed to the teacher’s satisfaction. My subconscious thinks this is a school assignment; take that as you will.
The support has been wonderful, though. Over 60 people showed up at a dinner my family and I threw for neighbors and City High teachers, to wish me luck or congratulations or tell me that I’d come back fluent in Spanish. The photographer who won the National Geographic photo contest (a dear neighbor) insist on taking a family portrait, then brought me a print a ten minutes later so I’d have time to pack it, and brought his most wonderful family along. Some neighbors come by to say ‘bye. Another brought a small gold pin in the shape of a turtle that had belonged to her mother, so I would always carry my home on my back. It’s in my carry on right now. And my family–don’t even get me started on how supportive they’re being! One example: my brother offered to be my slave for the day, and actually followed through (evil sister to take him up on that offer).
It’s late now. I’ve got to be up by 3am (ahhhh ughhh whhyyyyy), or in three hours. So for now, I’ll say buenas noches.
See you next year, Tucson! Love you so, so much.