twinges of...

the 47 days i have left in the united states notwithstanding, i had my first twinge of sadness this past saturday evening. my friend l.b. had gone out for the night and i was home alone cooking dinner. as i was delicately slicing zucchini and keeping a close eye on the italian sausage browning in the frying pan, i suddenly realized that i had no desire to eat this meal alone. i haven't gone so far as to tabulate the number of conceivable meals i have left here, but i know it's not very many.

on the off chance that a good friend was free for the evening, i picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number. after three rings, i was greeted by a warm voice informing me that he couldn't come to the phone. i decided to leave a message, but i knew in my heart there would be no returned call that night. i finished slicing the zucchini and threw it into the already marinating concoction on the back burner. the counter now clear, i slumped over, elbows resting on the smooth brown wood, head held in my hands. i sighed. i wasn't feeling so hungry anymore.

i threw the tortellini into the pot and half-heartedly stirred them into the mixture. a delicious aroma was filling the air, but i could not enjoy it. finally, i ladled some soup into a bowl, grabbed a spoon and curled up in the easy chair in the living room. maybe the olympics would cheer me up.

the pair skaters were graceful and enjoyable, but as i slowly made my way to the bottom of the bowl, i was unable to fully distract myself from the ache in my heart. finally the soup was gone and the dishes clean. still alone with my thoughts, i turned out the lights and got ready for bed.

as i drifted off to sleep, the words of a fernando ortega song wafted across the room to my ears:

Heavenly Father
Remember the traveler
Bring us safely home
Heavenly Father
Remember the traveler
Bring us safely home
Safely home

I long for my family
And friends to remind me
Of where I have been
And where I am going
And where I come from

i haven't left yet, but these words resonate so strongly with me these days. i know where i'm going, but without family and friends, how will i remember where i have been?