My phone did something unusual last Sunday morning.
It rang.
On the other end was a friend from back home, calling me on the way to the Beijing Airport to say good-bye.
For the past year, we've lived in the same country. We'd only talked a handful of times since I arrived and met up only once.
But still, there was a connection there. There was a link to home. There was knowledge of the man I called "Dad," something no one else here could claim. I could ask the dumb questions about China, knowing I wouldn't get laughed at. I could ask about places I wanted to visit, things I wanted to see. And I got answers.
And it all disappeared that Sunday morning. Some awesome things await my friend back in Canada (cue the wedding bells!), and I am thrilled on my friend's behalf.
But at the same time, I kind of feel ...cut off. And left behind.
Which is weird, because I'm the one who left it all just over a year ago to embark on a new journey.
So, friend, thanks for being a part of my first year here. "May the grace of our Father be with you, now and always, may you stay, blameless till He comes."
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