The days since training camp have been a whirlwind. I packed up my apartment, sold or gave away most of my things, and somehow fit the rest of it into my little convertible (which, sadly, will also be sold soon). I drove away from Athens, GA–a city that affected me more than any place I’ve ever been, away from friends and familiar faces, and I tried to awkwardly wrap words around saying goodbye not only to a zip code but to the girl I was when I first arrived there as a freshman at University of Georgia.
Goodbye looked like walking through North Campus and noticing the magnolia trees one more time. It looked like remembering a painful heartbreak at a fountain right near where I attended French class. It looked like quietly sitting in the Founder’s Garden trying to find the courage to turn the page and close this chapter. To get in my car and drive away. Athens might more or less stay the same. But not me.
So I left my city of comfort and drove back to the only other place I could possibly call home–Leesburg, where my family is. The charm of this small southern town was something I dismissed throughout high school, but has somehow won me over in the years since. The slowness of it has been a huge gift, allowing me to rest, reflect, prepare, and soak up time with family and friends.
Even though I technically haven’t left the country yet, I feel like I’ve been on the World Race since leaving training camp. I moved from one city another, stuffed all my things into boxes and bags, and mourned the loss of what I’m leaving behind. There’s certainly more to be celebrated than to be somber about, but this time period has allowed me the space to find closure so that my only baggage when I step onto the plane are my pack and my backpack.
I don’t think God is intimidated by a blank page like I am. This is the end of an old chapter for me and the beginning of a new one, and that makes me both anxious and excited for what’s next.
