I don’t like to call it a gap, a year-off an interim.  Because really it’s none of those things.  A gap is an empty space, surrounded on both sides by content or matter (in this case, high school and college.)  But this year is hardly one that could be described by the word “gap” or anything synonymous with it.  I look forward to living with host families in eight different countries, coming face to face with some of the words most pressing challenges, and seeing how I can contribute myself in the future to those many varied issues.  But for now I am saying goodbye.  Goodbye to my car (which my dad has decided to sell?) goodbye to my phone (unless you have bbm!) goodbye to chocolate fondants and blondies cookies.  A few, more personal, goodbyes have already been had.  I walked in to what used to be called Sam’s room; now Charlie’s room of course, and quietly interrupted his game of WOW and facebook chat.  Then it went a little something like this…

           

              “Charlie I’m leaving….” no answer, “forever.”

            “Oh yeah I forgot about that, Bye lus.”  Charlie then reached his hand from down his pants and gave me a weak one handed hung.

            “Love you Sidie,” I said with a grotesque look on my face.

            “Love you too,” I hear over the sound of his keys typing.

                                                       THE END

 

Less distant, and more thoughtful was my dad.  He walked me out to my car and when we neared the front headlights he said,

            “Be careful hugging me, watch out for my arm.” We hug “EEeeEEkkkKK,” he screeched with a painful look on his face.  Then a few seconds of recovery time passed.

            “Ok, have an amazing year, learn a lot, and wear a helmet whenever there’s an opportunity.”

            “Thanks dad.” I said.  Then we exchanged a few, brief, more thoughtful words and that was that. See you in May.

 

Right now it is 11:08, Tuesday night and everything and more that is supposed to fit into my tiny backpack is strewn across my bedroom floor.  I threw away the suggested packing list and compiled my own supply of necessary objects.  Two to Three T-shirts? For one year?  Needless to say I am bringing 12.  It gets worse 5-7 pairs of undies? I decided to times that by four.  I have yet to attempt to fit all of my highly practical belongings into that tiny backpack…talk about pressing challenges, my plane leaves in six hours.  I also have to make room for my vision board, 4 cameras, 50 sheets of stickers and a year’s supply of tampons. BAH.  As Helen says, “See you on the other side!”

                                               

                                                                        Big Love, Lucy