At a dinner with some friends, someone asked him, "Have you used chopsticks before?"
"Yes," he said proudly, "on Monday."
I took great pains earlier on this month to have last meals and meetings with people only to get text messages from them the day we were leaving: "Can I stop over and visit?" or "I have a small gift for you; is it convenient for me to come over?"
Actually, the answer I scream inside my head is "NO, I'm swamped and barely sane" as I bustle around with cleaning tasks and other small "shi" or "stuff" I should deal with before leaving a region I have lived in for four years. But even as I write this, I realize I sometimes take myself way too seriously. And, most of those 5th hour self-invites were actualized and there was grace enough for the moments. I wasn't a great host or even an acceptable one in the last few hours before leaving, but I allowed most of my friends to share their last words, parting gifts, and final hugs. And now, I am emotionally beat yet I still have a sadness like hunger in the pit of my stomach.
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