This has been a rough week. My mother flew in from Atlanta to help me pack and move all my stuff--and thank goodness she did. I never could have done that by myself. We spent all of Monday and Tuesday just packing and packing. Wednesday we made a trip up to Cache Valley to drop my stuff off at my grandparent's house, where it will stay for the next approximately two years. It was really sad packing a lot of that away. I only have 8 pairs of shoes in my possession now. That was really hard, packing away all of my heels and everything else. Lots of my favorite clothes were put into storage too. I know this sounds a little ridiculous, but you try saying goodbye to your favorite clothes for two years and see how it feels...harder than you think.
Then there was the fact that my mission papers are in. I had my last interview Tuesday night, so my papers should have been submitted sometime midweek. I could get my call as soon as the week between Christmas and New Years. As I walked home from my interview I almost had a panic attack. Between packing and turning in my papers, I was feeling pretty unsettled. What a huge step in my life. I've just graduated from college, moved back home with my parents, and I'm about to leave for 18 months to do one of the hardest things ever in a place that is currently undisclosed to me. It all seems so surreal.
Surprisingly I've been ok today. No tears. And the only time that I did really get choked up was at the airport when Jeff and I were standing in the security line and a big group of missionaries were coming out of the terminal to applause and cheering from their family and friends. Shoot, just thinking about it again is bringing tears to my eyes. I guess I'm not as stoic as I thought I could be.
Surprisingly I've been ok today. No tears. And the only time that I did really get choked up was at the airport when Jeff and I were standing in the security line and a big group of missionaries were coming out of the terminal to applause and cheering from their family and friends. Shoot, just thinking about it again is bringing tears to my eyes. I guess I'm not as stoic as I thought I could be.
Ha I'm not that much of a rock. I cry. I just hide it when I do. Although, I don't cry as much now as I used to. Not even close! My senior year of high school I cried several times a week. In 2011, I could tell you exactly how many times I've had a really good cry (meaning more than just a few trickling tears), and I can count it on one hand. I don't know how I got to be so non-emotional. Well, maybe that's not the right term. I don't know why I don't cry very much anymore. Maybe because I have realized I have so many more things to smile about than cry about.
So, I'm on my way home. We have a three hour layover in Denver (curse expensive direct flights) and I guess now I have time to really sit and think about the fact that Provo isn't home anymore. And you know what? It sucks.
But...life goes on. I couldn't have stayed in college forever. The friends that I met will forever stay in my memories, and many of them in my heart. Yes, very sentimental sounding, but it's true. They have changed my life and I know that today wasn't the last day that I will ever see them.
Even though I don't know when I'll be back again, please smile for me. It's just the end of one chapter and on to another.
oh step, this is tender. touched my soul
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