I had to get a copy of my prescriptions from the doctor's office, just in case. I spoke to them on the phone and clearly said "Teresa C Korbesmeyer" and told them my birthday. Lo and behold, they gave me my mother's prescriptions instead. However, that's going to be something I miss. I'm going to miss saying, "...But you can call me Tess." I'm going to miss seeing middle-aged people (way more motivated than I am) running down County Route 4. I'm going to miss stopping at Byrne Dairy with JT to find that there is no salt so we have to go to the 24-hour grocery store. I'm going to miss Thai and Indian and Mexican food and barbecues and half-price appetizers at Applebees and that curry restaurant on Broadway in Soho that Andrea and I always go to. I'm going to miss Blue Moon and Andre and forcing everyone to "cheers!" whether it's a special occasion or not. Law & Order marathons, pointless texting conversations, hugs from my loved ones, going to the mall with Courtney to get a new shirt just for the hell of it, congregating on someone's bed the next morning to laugh about last night, pilates with Ashley, sunsets over Lake Ontario, my church, my friends who have become my family.
What the hell am I doing? Why, exactly, did I want to join the Peace Corps? My main reason is for service - a moral value instilled even more deeply in me by going to Seton Hall. But I also have this weird obsession with going somewhere alone, unknown and unaided, in order to recreate myself and push myself and (for lack of a better phrase) find out what I'm made of. I'm sure there are many other Peace Corps volunteers looking for the same challenge, but I wonder if in my case it's just a glorified way of being too scared to deal with the life I have created for myself. Rather than stay and deal with past mistakes, the recession, messy feelings and broken relationships, a desk from 9 to 5, words left unsaid or needed-to-be-said, and just growing-up in general, it's so much easier to leave. To say, "Well, yeah, that sucked, but I'm leaving in a month," or "Who cares? I won't need to worry about that a week from now." And then if at the end of two years I have screwed things up again, well, I'll be headed back home. To start anew, once again. So when people say they're proud of me, I feel very guilty, because I'm not really being brave at all.
Speaking of people who said they were proud of me, I went to visit Elaine today in order to say a final farewell. After weeks of "See you later!" and "Safe travels!" and "Keep in touch!", this goodbye was particularly hard. Of course goodbyes are going to be a lot harder now that I'm departing in two days, but Elaine truly is my Mom-Away-From-Mom and my Home-Away-From-Home. Always an inspiration, she left me with an absolutely beautiful prayer that I will keep close to my heart as I'm gone:
Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night,
and give your angels charge over those who sleep.
Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary,
bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted,
shield the joyous;
and all for your love's sake. Amen.
-An Order of Service for Compline, The Book of Common Prayers
My friends, may God always shield your joy.
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