Hearty Paradox

Donald was the best pharmacist ever for coming!

The last few days around little Tyler, Texas, have been very full for me. They have been wonderful, chalked with self-induced sunshine and barrel-belly laughter. Ignoring my packing, I’ve made butter biscuits and turtle truffles; I have eaten pancakes, pickles, and popcorn, neither in that order nor all at the same time; I’ve watched old movies for the first time, re-watched older movies for the hundredth, and finally truly understood the phrase “if you build it, they will come.” I played Settlers of Catan, Blockus, Last Word, Taboo, Cranium, and Imagine If losing at every one, but enjoying every minute.

I have the feeling that I am desperately attempting to seal my presence here. Stuffing all the people I keep in my world, full with the newest, most vibrant memories of me. As if I can fill them all up to overflowing, lock the doors to their souls, and keep the keys buried in my heart. As if I can somehow insure I won’t be forgotten, replaced, or substituted because of the blazing Erica-ness I will forcibly, intentionally leave behind.

There are still many mysteries I have to solve about this adventure I am departing on in thirteen days, but, though I seem to be trying so vilagently to sear myself into the places I hold in Tyler, I do know I’ll have warm hugs and gleeful greetings to return to. You all have given me that faith. This may not be heaven, or Iowa, but it has very much become home.

So, before I go, thank you for your support, encouragement, prayers, and most of all love, you know who you are. Leaving is a paradox; you have made this jump over the Pacific one of the easiest things to do, and one of the hardest. A paradox I heartily welcome.

Domo arigato.