The beginning of the end

This is my last week in New Hampshire.
My last week at the hospital.
My last week with my friends.
My last week with my patients.

This is the beginning of the end.

Over the past few weeks, my friends and I have joked about my unavoidable departure. I've been threatened with duct tape and ropes to keep me from leaving. Not sure if they are serious, but I will soon find out.

Invariably, people are curious what feelings crop up for me when I get closer to leaving.

Are you excited to go home?
Are you sad to leave?

Definitely a hard feeling to articulate. It is an odd limbo I seem to live in these days. Torn between two worlds that I have created for myself. At times, I am so home sick I can barely stand it. Missing my midwestern roots, my friends, my family, my memory foam mattress in my beautiful 1930's cape cod house. With all of that awaiting my return, how could I be torn?

Legit question.

The past eight weeks have reaffirmed what I already believed. New England is a beautiful place. The best of many worlds. Access to beautiful beaches, striking mountains, and expansive lakes. Amazing restaurants seem to be everywhere, usually the freshest fish I've ever had. A dream location for any beach bum, avid outdoorsman/woman, and foodie alike. The people are pretty amazing as well. I've developed ties here that I don't see letting go easily. I've laughed, cried, and loved. Cliche it sounds, I know, but true.

I'm very much at peace with my decision to come back for the past few weeks. I don't regret coming back, even though leaving this time will be harder than before. I've deepened my relationships with friends, seen more of this beautiful country, and done more what I think I do best: care for patients. I feel like this was where I was meant to be. Is this where I'm meant to be for good? I don't think I have an answer to that question right now. What I do know is that it has been a pretty great place to call home for seven months of my life this year.

Seven months, well spent.