getting ready to say goodbye

ben and i have been working like crazy to get ready for this move.  we literally haven't stopped... as ben says, every minute counts!  we've gotten rid of a bunch of stuff, sold a fair amount, and are working to organize the rest.  they will pack us out in one week - !  this frenzied preparation has helped to keep our minds busy in the midst of a pretty wild emotional roller coaster.

on the one hand, i'm thrilled - elated - to be returning to the states.  it's literally a dream come true for me, returning home with my sweet little family.  we are working to close on a house that we will thoroughly enjoy (mostly the open kitchen/family/dining room layout - the stuff my dreams are made of!).  people are warning us the winter will be harsh, and we say bring it on!  can't wait to hunker down for a winter with lots of snow - a fire burning in the wood stove & nice back yard for emre to play in any time he wants.  my parents will be just up the road and my sister, just down it - we'll hop in the car and see them any time we feel like it.

but, on the other hand… tonight i was putting emre to bed with the sound of the sprinklers outside in the courtyard, soothing him (and me) to sleep.  i suddenly felt horribly homesick, for here, and started to cry.  the other night we were down at the park, and i started thinking.  it has been such a blessing to us, that park.  we've gotten to know our neighbors there.  emre has had a place to run & play, with other kids (it's emre's park, as he would tell you).  our neighbors from across the way have taught emre how to play soccer in that park, and we've spent countless evenings walking the little path that encircles the playground & grassy area, discussing our frustrations with this place, our future plans.  on hot summer evenings i can count on it being filled with folks trying to escape the heat of their un-air conditioned apartments.  i've developed a strange familiarity with the old ladies, wearing head scarves, who sit on the bench watching us walk by.  they crack sunflower seeds faster than you'd think was humanly possible, gossiping the evening away, reaching out to touch emre's face as we hurry by.  they know me around here, the 'ya-bahn-gee' or foreigner.  i'm used to being treated a certain way - sometimes for better, plenty of times for worse.  this is the role i have assumed for six years now, it's how i identify.  who will i be when i return to new york?  i've changed so much since i left.

it's all so much to process, and so hard to imagine:  returning home.  i'm going to be a stranger in my own country, as i deal with reverse culture shock (i never knew what that meant until now) and, reluctantly, begin abiding by traffic rules once again.