And that one time I forgot that there was only one of me and that sometimes I get sleepy and moody and irritable and super emotional when I’m not by myself enough.

And I forgot that every so often I feel the need to run into oncoming traffic and wave with both hands as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to do when one is feeling the need to just be alone.

But in the moments between the madness (when I admit to myself that one time is actually now), I see the beautiful brown faces of children that are growing and learning not to roll their r’s when they say the word tomorrow and I smile at the knowledge that I taught them that.

And in the not-so-quiet of evening, I hear the uproar of Spanish swear words from the streets as Bolivia and Colombia battle in the South America futbol qualifier.

Then, I crawl beneath my covers and grin at the life I’ve made in coffee country for awhile and as sleep draws nearer the slightest hint of sadness takes me over.

It seems the end is closer than I ever thought it would be.

It all felt too real and for the first time history came alive.  At least to me.

I wasn’t reading about it in biographies or flipping through black and white pictures of it at Square Books.  I was a part of it.  And the feeling it gave me isn’t one I can explain.  It’s rooted in my love of Oxford and her sordid past and grounded in stories my Mamaw told me about working in cotton fields. 

Except now the stories are mine.  I just don’t have the words to tell them.

Pat did.  He told the story I wanted to tell and he told it exponentially better than I could have.  I don’t know who got Pat’s vote and you don’t know who got mine and honestly, I don’t think it matters. 

Because the fact is that today is a new day and our country has a new leader, but my King is bigger than any man and my faith is in Him alone.  So, go read Pat’s recap and how he saw history changing on a snowy day in Oxford, Mississippi.

That’s obvious enough seeing as how I pack up the contents of my life and move them all over the planet time and time again.  But there truly is something so empowering about getting to know what once seemed impossible.  Even if what you’re getting to know is yourself.

So, here I am at the beginning of another year and the novelty of it almost overwhelms me.  There is all of 2009 to see and to breathe in and I just know that hidden in it are one thousand treasures. 

I’m not sure what they are yet.  Perhaps they are diamonds entombed in the stone wall around my heart.  Or maybe they are new friends or new adventures.  It could be that the treasure is coming home. 

I honestly haven’t the faintest idea, but I do know this:  I’d like to take this freshness and the feeling that it gives me and bottle it up so that someday, like in late Novemeber when days are short and winds are cold, I could take it out and have a little sip.

What about you?