The redhead is too emotional sometimes.

Eleven days left.
Today my mother told me I must move out of my room putting the things I don’t take with me to Germany into the basement.
My room. An blue and orange smattering of my thoughts and belongings and dearest memories.
But I think I shall miss much more important things.
The familiar sound of my family’s laugh, much like Goofy. AH-HEEUK. (One that will most likely make me feel like an alien everywhere else...
The smile of my nephew.
My sisters publicly embarrassing me and talking about bodily functions at the dinner table.
My mother dancing to commercials and singing off-key to old show tunes or Elton John. My father’s old worked, worn hands and his drastically ridiculous farmer’s tan that creeps from italian dark to nerd pasty-white up his arms.
The obnoxious squeak of my bedroom door that ALWAYS wakes me up.
I suppose I shall miss even the eerie barking of my puppies that can irritate and awaken even the deadest and most decayed of people. As well as all my extended family (you know who you are). I shall miss all these things, these people. I shall miss too much more to name here.
But I must always remember that life is about today and tomorrow and the years that wheel by like cars in a hurry to find another road. They enter or exit, but simply go and usually find a way to come back to where they started.
And most likely, a year from now I will be missing people, things, and places on the other side of the puddle.