Little Wooden Shoes

When I was in Amsterdam last year I bought a pair of wooden shoes. They are tiny and couldn't fit on anyone's foot but they were exactly what I'd wanted to bring back as a souvenir. They sit on the bookshelf in the den at my apartment and everyone can see them displayed. I often catch myself looking at them because they are one tangible thing I can take back with me in June. I know that wherever I set up house next, they will be out and about for all to see. They will also help me to remember that the world is small and that not that long ago I was living in a foreign country that over time became like home.

I've started to get into the mindset of leaving and it hurts worse than anything. I can't imagine not coming back in August or having a week to go somewhere in October. There is something that captivates me about this continent like nothing else. I'm truly an American girl at heart, but experience has led my heart to be torn between two continents and that's OK. It doesn't mean I'm unpatriotic or love America any less. I think it's just the part of transitioning between two places that are so different.

I know that I will spend a great deal of time missing this wonderful place. Looking at pictures and reminiscing in my mind is going to happen a lot that first year back.

But at least I have my little wooden shoes.