pre-nostalgia (n):
1. the feeling of missing something before it’s gone
I got really emotional in the airport when we went to pick up Kristin’s mom last week.
- We were talking about the airport scene in Garden State, and that movie makes me sad.
- I watched Kristin hug her mom, and I realized I missed my mom and my dad and then remembered my old life and all the people in it and that I get to see them really soon.
- I realized that saying goodbye in airports was going to be a good chunk of my life for the next few weeks.
Time is funny here. I feel like I’ve lived a million lives in Nome. I think about living with last year’s volunteer crew last summer, or the few months I really got into yoga in the fall, or the winter months I spent days watching Lost, and they all seem like they happened ages ago. Like they were somehow all different Caitlins. All experienced in the course of 10 months.
We sent Kristin off with her parents for their family vacation this weekend, and we realized it was the last time the 2014-2015 volunteers would be alone in the house — because when she comes back, she will be bringing with her the first of next year’s volunteer crew on the same flight (Hi Laura, I can’t wait to meet youuuu). The end of an era to say the least.
It’s hard to live in a place where so many people come and go, but it’s also hard to be the one that leaves. There’s never really a right time. No matter how much I try and prepare myself, the dates of departure for myself and for the people around me are always looming overhead.
But that’s no way to live. So I try to stay present, something I’ve been working on since I got here, really. Because leaving isn’t so much an ending, and as I’m constantly reminded here, you can always come back.
