Thursday, May 23, 2013

The Week of Lasts

I'm ready. I'm not ready. I'm ready. I'm not ready.

I feel like I'm plucking petals off a flower, hoping to land on "I'm ready," but no matter how excited I am to go home to the beautiful Rocky Mountains, I'm not ready to leave this country.

Just the other day, I was flipping through old photos, reminiscing our Saturday trips and remembering all the details of adjustment into the English lifestyle. It feels so long ago when I didn't know that "2 p" means "2 pence" and "are you alright" means "how are you"that one still trips me up. I can't pinpoint the day I started feeling like a local, but sometime in the last 4 months, it happened. I'm comfortable with this life. Flat life could have been better though, as an ant-infested kitchen and cold showers are not ideal.

Still, somewhere in this term, England became my normal.

And now I have to say goodbye.

I would be lying if I said it was easy.

This past week has been a week of lasts: the last time I'll sit in Perky Peacock with a cup of chai tea, the last time I'll attend Evensong at the Minster, the last time I'll sit in the Museum gardens, the last time I'll walk the old Roman walls. The list goes on. But I've been trying not to think pessimistically.

Instead, this list of lasts is my closure to a spectacular term abroad. Sure, I may never drink Perky Peacock's sweet chai again or wander aimlessly through the old city streets, but at least I was given the chance to experience Europe at all, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

So as this week passes, I've been trying to count my blessings as I say my final goodbyes. Maybe one day I'll be back. Until then, I will cherish my term in England and my travels throughout Europe. They have been the most life changing months of my life and I do believe I will board that plane tomorrow morning as a more mature woman than when I landed last January.

Tomorrow I wave goodbye. England, you have done me well.