Around finals time of year, I start running out of words. It’s like between my classes and studying and reading and writing and note-taking and question-asking, I use up my quota for the day and just stare at the empty blog post form like, what is this for? what do I put in here?
It’s not even the really crunchy crunch time yet. I’m trying to abide by the tortoise motto, “Slow and steady wins the race” so that I won’t have to take a nap in the middle.
In other news, I’ve got pairs of everything left. 2 more of each day of the week. 2 more of each class. 2 more papers. 2 more weekends. 2 more weeks. I’m just a great big jumble of everything when it comes to how to feel about that. Part of my yearns for my family and the comfort of my room with its green walls and purple curtains and the bed that is mine and has never been anyone else’s. I miss my church community so much, too. That’s been one of the biggest gaps in my time here.
Then I have to remember, home isn’t perfect either. There’s a lot of responsibility and bills and work.
But it’s home.
But it’s not Graz. And I love Graz. And my friends I’ve met here won’t be there.
But my family will. And my high school friends. And work and church friends. And there’ll be good ol’ Minnesota.
But there won’t be 400-1000 year old buildings or cobblestone streets or German-speakers everywhere.
Right, there will be English! Oh, that blessed language.
But there won’t be bakeries everywhere. And cars won’t be required by law to stop once you enter the crosswalk. Heck, I won’t even be using the crosswalks.
But I’ll have Audrey again.
And gas bills. and no tram.
Do you see the dilemma? Going home is great… and horrible… and wonderful… and tragic… and heartwarming…. and heartbreaking.
I don’t know when I’ll be back here or when I’ll see these people again.
The best cure for this is to just live fully here for my last 14 days, to be all in Graz and all with the people here.