A few thoughts on the last few weeks.

The count-down begins.  Well, to be honest, the count down began some time ago, but with the three weeks in between me and my eighteen hour journey of a day home, its very real.  In my head, three weeks still seems like a lifetime.  That possibly has to do with the oceans and countries, and classes and projects and exams in-between as well.  This week will be the longest though.  Once I hit two weeks, thats when time will race.  Thats when I will suddenly have to study for grammar and arabic classes, still want to get that last taste of churros, and still somewhere have time to shop for Christmas presents and never mention packing!  (Im trying to pull off a magic trick where I go home with less luggage than I came with...I'll let you know how that goes.)

But after struggling for several weeks with an irrational fear of tragedy striking and never seeing my family ever again, Mom reassured me that such fears aren't unheard of.  In fact, they are just an expression of love.  Real, deep, longing love.  And I guess I must just miss my family more than I had previously thought.  Don't get me wrong, I do love Granada, and this has been and amazing experience, but as the holiday's approach, with Thanksgiving this Thursday, the first Sunday of Advent this Sunday, and Christmas a mere four weeks away, I am feeling that missing part of my life even more keenly with each passing day.  I can also feel the Potsdam snow on my nose, and see the lights that light up Market Street.  I can smell the evergreen boughs decorating the church windows and hear the squeals of delighted children, the piping of the organ and the singing of the choir.  My brother and friends all talking at once in the din of the parish hall as we stuff our faces with food we all brought to share for Christmas Eve dinner.  I can see the twinkling fairy lights of the tree, and the furry paw of the cat trying in vain to tear ornaments from the branches.  And everywhere the whiteness of the snow that blankets the ground.

But somehow, the more I close my eyes to imagine it, the further away it seems, reminding me of one of the things I am terrible at: living in the present.  Look at the city around me!  A city that in a few weeks will be gone to me, and I surely will miss.  Live in the moment, and enjoy it, and the time will pass.  But the further ahead I look, the slower everything seems to take.  So I breathe deeply, take sip of cafe con leche, and dig into my exams, and enjoy my last few weeks.

(flash to the past...memories anyone?)

Even so...the song "I'll be home for Christmas" has an entirely new meaning for me...