Last Minute Panic

    Well last post was going to be the last one from Orleans, but I decided to go ahead and blog tonight anyway.
    This morning I closed my bank account and so that felt nice. It was my last official thing to do before I leave. I was with Jeneal again, who leaves the day after I do, and so afterwards we had a small lunch in the centre and sat with our feet in the fountain for a little while. We talked about random unimportant things while we waited for the main office of the bank to open so I could get my money that was still in my account. So while we waited we decided to go ahead and get train tickets for our departure, which was really depressing. Then we looked around H&M and Mango for a little while in the mall, then decided to go check and see if the bank would be open a little early. (Banks and the Post Office closes for like two hours during lunch.)They were open so I went in and got my money and then Jeneal and I went to her house so I could give her thirty Euro and she could give me forty USD. A mini exchange. So now I have plenty to get me through my eight hours in Chicago.
    After this whole ordeal I went back to the house to pack and stuff. Weighing my suitcase on and off for forever and ever. I was then called down to eat my last dinner with my host family, which was nice but a little sad. I had pheasant again, along with some mushrooms and cucumbers with cheese melted on them. It was a good last meal. Then I payed my rent and gave my host mom the key to the house and then she wished me a good return (I spelled that the French way then had to correct it, oops) and told me she hopes I find a good and nice husband thats, "Maybe a pastor?" So that was nice and funny and I think that was my goodbye, but I might see her in the morning.
     Since then I've been packing and procrastinating by watching 24 while panicking about money and the weight of my suitcase. I'm pretty over the weight limit. So that'll cost something at the airport. Or maybe if you all pray for a miracle, the person won't make me pay. Maybe I'll cry and speak French to them and they'll be like, "Poor petite fille, sad to leave this wonderful country, we'll give her a pass and not make her pay." Because that would be heavenly. I'd also like prayer for endurance in getting my luggage through the airport. Oh and that God would send some kind strangers to help me get my luggage up and down the stairs of the metro system.
    It's kind of hard to describe what it's like leaving here. I think I mentioned that my happiness is increasing along with my sadness. But it's also a lot more complicated then that. For the past four and a half months, this house has been my home. France has been my home. I've adjusted to the culture finally and now it's being taken away from me. I'm eager to go home and see my friends and family, but then I'm also going to miss my friends and host family here. My host parents told me that for four months they had a substitute daughter. I went to their family reunion and their Easter. I've become so close to them and now I have to leave. It's really unfair. I didn't think I'd get this attached, I really didn't. I don't know why I thought that it'd be easy to leave France, but I did. I figured I'd end up being like, "It's nice, but I wouldn't want to live here." Which isn't how I feel. Even though it is expensive (like, SUPER expensive but less expensive than London, FYI) I definitely think I could deal with living here. Fresh baguettes, delicious cheese, pastries and chocolate. Walking around centre ville. Visiting parks and chateaux and speaking French and getting better and better with each month. Connecting with a French church. All of these things I could do. I mean yeah I'd miss my friends and family. But I think I could do it.
    On the other hand this has made me realize that if I do career missions, I won't see my friends and family all that often. I miss everyone so much back home. I've known that living apart from family and friends will be tough, but now that my dream of doing missions is becoming a reality, leaving suddenly seems really scary. And sad. How many times in my life will I have to say goodbye to people that I've grown to care about without knowing if I'll see them again? My friend told me that she's had so many goodbyes in her life, and they never get easier, in fact, they get harder. She grew up an MK. So am I just going to go through life with goodbyes? Am I always going to be torn between two places? These are the things on my mind as I sit in my bed on the last night in Orleans. Stressing about suitcase, money, and the future. As much as I want to stay here, I also just want to be home.
    If God gave me the ability to fly or teleport or something to that effect, it'd make everything simpler. For one, I wouldn't have to carry over 60 lbs of luggage through Paris.
    I'll write once I'm in the States again.
    Peace out girl scout.