This weekend I spent with my host family, making sushi, watching movies, having an asado (i.e. grill-out) etc. It was a wonderful weekend. The looming Sunday evening, however, hung quite low over my head, reminding me of what was to come. For me, this goodbye was not as horrible as saying goodbye to my host family in Spain. My Chilean experience was quite different from my Spanish experience. And I think the fact that I am so excited and so at peace with this homecoming made saying goodbye to my dear Chilean family a little more bearable. Nevertheless, it was, for lack of a better word, weird. It's just a weird feeling knowing that you are leaving soon and do not know the next time you will return. Of course, I hope and pray that I will return to Chile one day but I have no clue when that would ever happen. So, for now, it really felt like a goodbye.
To my surprise, this goodbye was practically tearless (there were a few watery eyes), whereas my Spanish goodbye was adorned with full-fledged sobbing. Crying is really not my thing so I was a little relieved when my host mom did not burst into uncontrollable tears as I left the gate for the last time in awhile. During the weekend, the only time I thought Wow, I really should cry, or shed a tear, or something was during lunch today when my host mom took a moment to say a few words about my time with their family. Everything was going as one would imagine until my host mom presented me with a key to their house, saying that they want me to truly feel part of their family because I most certainly am a part of their family. Wow... That was one of the most symbolic and thoughtful things anyone has ever done for me and definitely caught me off guard. I think the key, as a symbol, does a better job than I ever could at explaining the bond I have with my Chilean family. A key. Una llave. Enough said.
Anyway, once I left and started down the street, my mind started doing that last thing. You know, this is the last... Por ejemplo, this is the last time I will walk down this street. This is the last time I will eat choripan etc. I was sitting at the bus stop, waiting, while my mind was doing that last thing and finally I had to stop myself. I should know better by now. Doing that whole last thing only makes things worse, at least for me. I am not a fan of goodbyes. I'd rather just cut the cord and not drag it out. But regardless of that, I should not be doing the last thing because I don't know what my future holds and who am I to say this is the last time I will do or see so-and-so. A year ago, I most definitely didn't think I would be in Santiago, Chile etc. Life is full of seasons. Seasons come and go. Things change. But sometimes seasons repeat themselves in the most interesting ways. You can never definitively say this is done, for good, forever. Sure, you can close a chapter but you never know when God is going to surprise you or resurface old friends and so on and so forth...
Thus, I can (and should) mourn the fact that I won't be seeing my Chilean family, or Chile for a while, but I can't mourn a definite goodbye. You just never know. For now, I am incredibly thankful for the family with whom I spent most of my time in Chile. They were, quite simply, a blessing from God.
From left to right: Papá, Annia (the oldest), me, Maca (the youngest), y Mamá.
Not pictured: La Abuela, i.e. Grandma
No comments:
Post a Comment