I'm ready to share a little bit of what I'm feeling about our imminent departure from Mexico. But just a little.
Yesterday when Scott was telling a friend that he's leaving in 17 days, I hopped around the house and whooped it up like I'd just won the Superbowl. "Hillary, are you happy because your husband is leaving?" my friend asked, confused by my display of emotion. "NO! I'm happy because if he's leaving in 17 days, that means I'm leaving in like 20 days!"
How could I be so callous? Don't get me wrong -- I'm happy that I am looking forward to going home. How sad would it be if I were dreading returning to my house, my community, my friends, my neighbors? But we have friends here in Mexico whom we love and who love us. Our kids have friends here who they will miss. Good, kind, generous friends. We have friends who will take our children at the drop of a hat and keep them far longer than is reasonable. We have friends who have tried to include us in their circle from the very first time they met us. Friends who are open and honest and caring and fun. Leaving Colorado was easy because we knew we were coming back. Not so for this move. Occasional visits, yes. Daily visits, no.
While I'm thrilled to be leaving this dusty, loud, buggy, geckoey street, I'm sad that we have to leave these friends behind. When we decided to come here for the year, getting attached to people wasn't part of the equation. It wasn't something I considered or prepared for, and so leaving is difficult.