I can't handle it.

Happy Independence Day, America!

It's been another long series of days since I posted, & now it's July. It's the 4th of July. My family will wake up, prepare desserts to donate to the cake wheel at our church's annual carnival, help the church by working a few hours at the hamburger stand (while eating free hamburgers & onion rings, which is why I enjoy helping). They'll watch fireworks from our front lawn, in our neighborhood where the trees are now growing too tall to see the lower bursts of color.

I miss that. I'm realizing that I have no idea what to do when I see them, when we drive up to their house in Joe's small truck in the afternoon & walk up the steps of the deck that my dad built. How can I hug all three at the same time? I think my heart will burst before I reach them.

I'll be home, or at least stateside, in roughly four days. I'm not handling this well. We have continued the gradual saying goodby to friends, breaking down more with each goodbye–starting with small tears in my friend's hometown, after spending a day with her in Luxembourg, then larger tears when saying goodbye to another friend who has been unbelievably kind & welcoming to me this year. She even got us one of the lovely burgamote tins that Nancy is known for (as seen in Amelie!) & a bracelet like the one I've seen her wear.

Diane, who has absolutely spoiled me with friendship

It's incredible how many people have come to mean so much to me here, & how quickly we have all scattered across the world–from Japan & back to the UK, to every corner of France, to the States, to Luxembourg... It's even more incredible to me that beyond missing the people, I can cry for missing a place so much. France feels like home to me, a spiritually & politically safe haven for me. The hardest part about leaving is not knowing when we'll come back–when I'll feel this way again; when we'll see these blue roofs & colorful shutters; when we'll speak this language; when we'll be able to buy wine for less than the price of soda.

Yesterday, I spent the afternoon packing. I took our decorations from the walls & books from the shelves. I folded sweaters & packed things into space-saving bags. I decided what clothes I'll wear in NYC. I sat in the middle of the floor crying, waiting for Joe to get back from a coffee rendez-vous with a fellow assistant, feeling like I couldn't do it. I can't drag my suitcase around this country & watch as the plane lifts away from Paris. I can't let go of this tiny apartment where our marriage began.

Today, we'll spend the day acting American. We'll get together with friends (who are mostly British at this point) & paint our faces & drink cheap beer while cooking American food. We'll wear red & burn sparklers on balconies. We'll use the night to finish saying goodbye before we leave quietly on a forecasted hot, sunny Thursday afternoon.

I had my last big adventure on Friday, waking early & taking a train to Longwy before Joe woke for his last day of work. A former student had invited me for the day, first visiting her hometown then going on a drive to Luxembourg. The tiny, rich country is only minutes from her house; the tiny country's capital city is only half an hour. It was our first time hanging out together, after months of trying to organize something, & it was lovely.

Claire, with whom I didn't get to spend nearly enough time

I was amazed by the amount of history Longwy, a town of roughly 5,000 people, had–visits from the Sun King, a town square completely destroyed by World War bombings, a tradition of making beautiful ceramics. Equally amazing was my friend's ability to explain the town's history to me in a way, I realized, I could not do with my hometown.  I need to learn more Midwest/American history!

For pictures from the day, click here. Longwy is in France, & then the other half of the pictures are Luxembourg City, a place that is unbelievably clean with ancient & modern buildings blurring into each other. Lots of people from all over Europe (particularly those near the Luxembourg border, so France, Belgium & Germany) work in Luxembourg. The result is this mix of languages, fashion & food styles, cultures & social ideas that you can see when you turn each corner. What a crazy place! Think of having that much diversity in a state smaller than Ohio!

In other news, yesterday my sunburn was looking normal. My arms are bronze; my chest is bronze; my back is, well... I felt the top of my back, & something stuck to my hand. I felt it again, & the same thing happened. I went into the bathroom, lifted my shirt & saw the skin all peeling off of my back. I'm concerned about bits of it–looking rather tender & rosy. I asked Joe what he thought.

"Meg, I think you burnt off your epidermis," he said. He couldn't hide his look of disgust from the three vanity mirrors that were surrounding us. At least it's over now & I'll come back to the States looking like I just spent a lot of time in the European sun, getting all comfortably glowing & tan. I'll have you fooled, just wait.

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