In one week, we'll be in the Frankfurt airport, waiting for our nine-hour flight across the Atlantic. The last of our odds-and-ends will have been packed up into four suitcases and our apartment left bare and waiting for the next family who will call it home.
And I can't wait for next week to come.
I'm not ready to leave for any dislike of Cairo; I wouldn't mind spending another few years here. We've had a great time, and it's the height of mango season. Rere is wonderful, and I'm incredibly sad to have to leave Maadi House. Everyone in the branch I can count as good friends, especially as almost every sister present has helped us out this past week in some way or another.
But it's time to go, and I'm itching with impatience to get the leaving over with. Our things are gone. The apartment is empty (although, Edwin can still strew with vigor despite the decreased amount of material available to him), and we're going crazy with boredom. Plane tickets are purchased, the suitcases have already been packed and weighed once, our ride to the airport is arranged.
And so now all I have to do is wait on my hands and try to shift with the six forks, knives, spoons, plates, glasses, and bowls to feed my family for the next few days. Sophia asks every day when we're going to get on the airplane and every day we count the days together, she being almost as eager as I.
I know that when the actual day comes, I'll be sad for all of the people that I will miss, friendships that may be picked up somewhere else, but most likely not. We will reminisce together and remember all of the great times we have.
First, however, we have to leave. And it's time to go.