A Chapter Ends

I just hugged my cousin Abbie goodbye.  She was the last family member for me to say farewell to here in Omaha.  Sad.

Now, I have one more day with the girls I nanny.  We're going to lunch with their mom in an hour or two.  I'm excited about that.  But, when 5:00 rolls around, I'll hug the girls goodbye, drive on past the townhouse I've called home all summer, and point my car west on the interstate.  I'll probably have some inspiring tunes rocking my Taurus, but I'm sure I'll glance in the rear-view mirror on my way out of town in recognition that I'm driving away from a place that's worked its way into my heart.  It's surreal now, but I can bank on emotions showing up sooner or later.

I'll be driving toward Colorado.  I'll stop for a day in North Platte to spend precious time with my grandparents.  I'll be experiencing that strange no-man's land of life between chapters.  One will have closed but the next one will still be mysterious.  Anticipation, curiosity, and a touch of uncertainty will line the thoughts of the future while sentimentality, fondness, and a touch of sadness will flood the thoughts of the past.  Yep, that's where I will be in a few short hours.

God has been exceedingly good to me in giving me this summer in Nebraska.  I am thankful.  I have more precious memories from my time here than I can digest at once.  My cup overflows and I'm drinking from my saucer (I'd like to give a shout out to my Uncle Ken and Grandpa for that saying). 

These kinds of days make me wish that everyone I love so dearly all lived in Colorado.  I don't like having to say goodbye.  Then I think of heaven and feel jazzed.  There will be no farewells in heaven.  It will be amazing, sweet fellowship with those most dear to me.  Uninterrupted.  Unpolluted.  Perfect.

So, here's to cornfields, lakes, family, friends, music, laughter, crying, lounging, game-playing, movie-watching, cooking, baking, dancing, brainstorming, running, swimming, kayaking, storm-watching, town-exploring, and every other thing that has been a part of my summer in 2010.  It will not be forgotten.