Well, it has happened. This morning I woke up, and almost immediately started crying. It could have been attributed to the fact that my health has been going through ups and downs lately (indigestion is just part of the game here in Thailand, I suppose), or the fact that a neighborhood dog kept me up most of the night. But it could also have been a combination of our visitors leaving, the fact that my friend Mac texted us that he was at my favorite Portland holiday event the Holiday Ale Fest, and that we are leaving Thailand soon.

It seems odd that a bout of homesickness would be spurred by the fact that you’re leaving a a place that is not your home. Perhaps it is, in a way, the same anxiety though. While there is still plenty that we have not done in Chiang Mai, plenty of food we haven’t eaten and sites we have not seen, it feels familiar in so many ways. A couple of weeks ago I noticed that I was no longer phased by the no fewer than seven wats we pass every day on our way from our apartment to the co-working space. There are a handful of restaurants where we eat that I know exactly what I’m going to get before we go, and I look forward to seeing the same servers and to being recognized by them in return. I feel so comfortable on the back of our motorbike, in my pink helmet, daydreaming as Jonah zips us through the city.

I don’t necessarily want to leave, but I think am ready to move on. And I wonder if this comes from a place of knowing that once we reach our next destination, I am that much closer to going home. Now let’s be clear, that doesn’t mean that I’m not enjoying myself, or pushing myself to try new things and go on adventures. But I find myself thinking of that phrase, “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.” I was never not fond of Portland, of the weather there, of my friends there. When I woke up this morning, all I found myself thinking was, if we love it so much why did we leave?

Now this is a terrible attitude to have. But it’s one that I will allow myself to have every once in a while. Out of the roughly 60 days we’ve been gone, I’m allowed to be sad for one or two of them, right? I must say though, I am proud of myself. You see, I cried for a little while this morning, but then I got dressed, brushed my teeth, and went out to see some new sights. I think it’s ok to be sad. Maybe it’s even good. You have to appreciate the whole story, all of the possibilities. There have been days in Portland when I have been bored, itching to go on an adventure. And here I am, on an adventure, and I am itching to be back in cold, gray Portland. I am grateful to have both of these stories. One where I am able to go see the world, expand my horizons, push myself to try new things. And one where I am home, luxuriating in the familiar places and people that I have made my community. I guess the point of this is, I’m lucky to have such a great home to be homesick for.

So, as quickly as we settled in, we are now starting to say goodbye. And in about a week and a half we will move. Our first two weeks in Europe will be spent tip toeing from place to place, barely touching the ground it seems. And hopefully then we will settle for a few more months, finding a home and creating a routine. I hope that I will be able to focus on Europe while I’m there. I think I will be able to, to nestle into the train rides and the cooler weather and the wine (have I mentioned that mostly what there is to drink here is very light almost watery beer?). I’ll enjoy it while it is there, in front of me.

By the way, our sweep through Europe includes Cologne, Brussels, Bruges, Stuttgart, and Paris (before landing in Lisbon for a few months). If you have gotten this far and have any recommendations for must dos or sees or eats in any of those locations, please send them my way.