Yesterday it hit. We are actually leaving. As we made one final trip to the market, our friend Gabriel in tow, I suddenly felt this panic. There were so many things we didn´t get to see, so many people I didn´t get to meet. I felt this overwelming urge to just sob, there in public, to sob and maybe draw the city into me.
This visit was filled with lots of ambigiuity. On side of the line, I love the D.F. I love the plazas, the springing up of life, the buildings, etc, etc. But then I hate the traffice. I truely loathe being stuck in a car for hours and hours to only go a few miles. I hate how snotty many middle class Mexicans are (H and I were literally harassed the other day at a mall by security guards). I also have a very hard time with the way private life and public life are played out here. Plus I realized that H and I have made a home for ourselves in Charlotte, and I hadn´t realized how strong that home was until we came here. And of course there was just the usual ¨This is not the vacation I imagined!¨
But now as I sit surrounded by our bags, I feel sad that we are leaving this place. I have to keep telling myself, as I tell the kids, ¨You have two homes.¨
Last night, we were surrounded by H´s siblings and their significant others, our friend Gabriel and his girlfriend. We spent the evening eating Happy´s pizza one last time, sharing our photos from memory cards, drinking (of course it´s Mexico!), and chasing the kids around. It was a warm moment, filled with love, and joy... a wonderful send off even if I am a bit blurry eyed this morning.