Home Sweet Home

Well, it's official: Summer is over. Not only has the weather taken a drastic turn, but I have finally returned to Philly after almost four months in Block Island. I left yesterday morning bright and early- 8 am to be exact- and endured a looooong 6 hour drive home, still a little groggy from the night before. Though I had sworn to make Monday night my last night out, Morgan and Maggie finally wore me down and convinced me to go to the Albion for a little. Fortunately, I only had a few drinks--much more responsible then I had been the night before. Because I thought then that it was my last night, Maggie, Morgan, and Rick had insisted on buying me numerous shots, including one very large Mind Eraser. And let me tell you something: the name does not lie. Tuesday night, however, I was in bed by 12:30, much earlier than the previous. Regardless, though, I was still very tired in the morning. It took several coffees and a highly- sugared cookie before I finally felt functional enough to drive.

Though I had been so ready to go, leaving was tough. I hate saying goodbye and, despite the drastic population decline on the island, there were still many people I had to say farewell to. My three closest friends- Natalie, Magda and Gosia- had already left the island, which took a big weight off my shoulders, but It was still a rough time- especially for three in particular. Erin and Steve, my boss and her husband, were the first I had to say goodbye to. I absolutely adore and respect the both of them. They are a great couple and truly caring people. Erin was like my summer mommy, always there to offer advice, comfort me, or lend a helping hand. And Steve, Steve is just a riot. To be fair, a good deal of the humor in what he says probably comes from his strong British accent, but all summer he had me in stitches, whether it was asking me to go "French kiss in the walk-in" or just making frighteningly realistic farting noises whenever someone bent over. Because they are trying to start a family, something they've had heartbreaking difficulty doing, they are unsure of whether they'll be back to work next summer. This added to my sadness as they had been such a great source of comfort for me this summer. Leaving them was definitely a little scary. Even back here at home, I wish I had them to turn to, and I worry that I won't have that same support next year. But I also can think of no two people I wish more to become parents and am thrilled they are trying to start a family. I envy the kids I know they will someday have.

Equally difficult to say goodbye to was my friend Morgan. A chef at the grill, he ran the daily breakfast and was frequently the only other American working with me in the morning. We had so much fun together and were always turning to each other in exasperation when "the foreigners" started spouting out some indecipherable language. On slow days, we would often text back and forth from the kitchen to the hostess stand about the ridiculous shirt Inna was wearing or the screw-ups Olga or Johanna were inevitably making. Walking to the ferry, I got a text from him thanking me for being "his rock" throughout the summer. It is exactly how I felt about him- he was my rock, my sanity, and my source of amusement. He- along with my beloved Natalie- was the reason I could bare to wake up each morning at 7 am. Unfortunately, he's also the reason I'm going to have to get a very pricey international text plan once I get to Spain.

On the bright side, though, there are a lot of good things about leaving the Island, namely 24 hour convenience stores, streets that go over 25 mph, and not having to hear the word "wicked" in every other sentence. But floating out of Old Harbor, I still breathed a sigh of sadness as I watched the grill and my beloved summer home drift away in the distance.