Thank goodness for tomato juice
It all happened rather quickly.
The parents were home early from work on Saturday and I spent a lot of time cleaning and neatening up just so I was still getting work done.
The family and myself had talked in the beginning of the week about me leaving early and the parents had offered to drive me to the airport the next weekend.
I had just sat down at the computer when she snapped.
Not liking the fact that I was leaving and not understanding that our situation was a miscommunication of what was expected on both ends, she let me have it. I stood my ground, clearly making myself known but never mean.
When I had spoken to her about leaving, she had said she understood and asked if I could stick around till the end of June to finish up the school year with the kids. I told her of course though in my mind I was done with them. I was originally supposed to remain with them until mid-August, having arrived on May 26th.
After a little more discussion, the father told me I could just leave and so I took him up on it. The mom hit me with, “Well what time are you leaving? You cannot miss the train.” “I don’t know. I kind of have to pack. Everything.”
It’s impossible to recount the number of times she had rolled her eyes and made faces to her husband whenever I spoke. I had now realized I’d be leaving four children behind.
In truth I could have remained there had I really wanted to but my heart had already checked out. I felt no connection to anyone except Mamie, the grandmother. Nadine had said I could leave the next day or Monday but I found that IMMEDIATELY would be just fine.
I spent probably an hour or so shoving all my clothes and everything I owned into my 3 bags. I was sweating big time by the time I dragged my luggage down the stairs.
We were about halfway to the train station when I realized that my red wallet was under this table by my bed. I didn’t feel stupid for leaving it because they had been rushing me to make the 7.21 pm train. I also had a few things in the dryer.
The ride to the train station the second time went much quicker because I had managed to grab some tomato juice to go with my wallet. I felt very weak because I had not eaten any dinner and, as I had already indicated, I was sweating profusely in my sweatshirt and jeans and for some reason my back was aching.
They bid me a good flight and I thanked them. The exchange was short and to the point. Then, without hesitation, I headed straight into the train station of Chalon, feeling nothing but free.
I had no guilt, no thoughts of failure, no remorse. I did not feel it necessary to justify my actions over and over to myself. I had simply tried out a situation which I decided wasn’t what I wanted, accepted the fact that it wouldn’t work and moved on to the next step. I didn’t even cry.
It was a relief to have left but at the same time I had gained a lot from my month with the Doux family. I think what I enjoyed most was driving through the little streets of the villages that line the french countryside of the Bourgogne region. And my beautiful white cows.
C’est la vie mes amies. Et ca n’est pas toujours facile.
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