I always experience something melancholy around the time of packing for a big trip. It often feels monumental, and while each time it's different, I also know a tinge of familiarity in the transition troubles I seem to always face. I get very nostalgic and sentimental about all sorts of things, especially goodbyes and lasts. Some are seemingly trivial but very real ("Goodbye, dear books") while others are straight up ridiculous ("This is the last time I will load the dishwasher all year").
In a little less than 12 hours, I'll be on my way to the airport for a week in Chicago, and then ten months in El Paso. The border has been in the news a lot lately, and more than just me being hyper-attuned to immigration issues because of my impending trip. I plan to post about any insights I gain on the current crisis, as well as my own every day experiences and happenings. I hope I'll be able to make something interesting and informative out of this space, similar but distinct from my bygone Ireland posts. While I might not have too much of a chance to post again until I arrive in August, and I certainly failed at updating in the summer, I do promise I'll have quality writing here once I get properly settled in my new home.
I'm scared and excited, I've packed way too much, but it's time for the next chapter. As Hagrid said, and I like to reflect on during times like these: "What's comin' will come, and we'll meet it when it does."
Hasta luego, mis amigos.
Sunrise
