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Hello, I am a mother of three living with my husband in Africa. I have been blogging for seven years but still find myself very technologically challenged. I make lots of mistakes, but life is a journey. Come join me on the journey!

Friday, November 2, 2012

A little bit of dejavu!

The last few months, the last few weeks in particular, have been nonstop busy, busy, busy. Now we are in waiting mode and getting things finalized before we fly out. This afternoon I had a distinct feeling of dejavu. It may not make sense at first, but I promise it will by the end.

Once upon a time there was a young girl of just 18 on a choir tour to New York. While out touring the city, the group stopped to eat dinner. Just before the group was to leave the girl decided that she needed to visit the "powder room". When she came out, the whole group was gone. She looked up and down the road but did not see a soul she knew. She tried to call her mom to get the phone number for her leader. She should not find it. In her panic of still not seeing her group and being alone in the big city, she decided to grab a taxi to meet her group back at Columbia University, where they were lodging. She had five dollars on her. She decided not to mention this fact to the taxi driver when the meter hit $5 as they passed a row of "gentlemen's clubs". They arrived back at the campus and she made a deal with the taxi to wait while she ran to her room for the money.  After she returned and paid the taxi, she went back to her room and anxiously awaited for the arrival of her group. When she saw the buses approach, she ran down the steps and sprinted toward the group, nearly tackling the first person in the group with whom she came into contact.

I feel a lot like that girl as she sat in the room waiting for those she knew to come into view. I feel like I have been on that same adrenaline high she was on as she searched for her group and made her way across town in the taxi. I feel like the airplane ride will be the sprinting down the stairs and that I am liable to tackle the first person I see, who is likely to be my mama.

It is a strange thing that I can have almost the identical emotions that I experienced 19 years ago in that great big city. Some things never change.