The Last Supper

There's nothing like a holiday to remind you of all the things you've missed about your family and friends, or, in my case, WILL miss. Until this point, moving off to Kenya hasn't really hit home. And even now, because I've got no framework for what this experience will be like, its reality is a bit illusive. But yesterday, Thanksgiving Day, I was reminded several times how I was going off for "a whole year!" We took family pictures because it would be the "last time we have all the girls together for a while," and Mom and I both said we were thankful plans for Africa were finally working out, and Grandma wants to make sure I have the right kind of clothes... And now it's about to snow up at cabin; clearly the last time I will see snow for a while. It is nice to have that "Last Supper" when you can say everything you've been meaning to, and do everything you love one last time (like eat..?), but I must admit it's melancholy. I realize now that I WILL be homesick and WILL, at points think, "What in the world am I doing here?!". However, I as much as I realize that, I also recognize that standing on the brink of an adventure always makes it look inestimably huge, and by next Christmas I'll be thinking how short a time I was in Africa.