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This post is something that no one at home has ever heard about. Mainly, because no one has ever asked. Then again, I never offered to share this either. No one likes to ask about the end. People like to hear about the happy times and  maybe a few sad times in the middle. The sad times in the middle show growth and strength. But, it is very rare that people ask or talk about the end. Maybe it is because we as humans dislike thinking about the end, especially since it often reflects upon our own mortality. This my friends, is not a post about death. No, this is just a post about the end of my wonderful year in China. Mostly, this is a post of my feelings. This is my way of opening up and sharing. My way of healing. 
I have put off writing this post for six months now. Now it is time to heal. So, buckle up people, grab a cup of your preferred hot beverage and a snack, because this post is going to be a long one. 

My last two weeks in China were interesting. I got my grades done and submitted in time and with little to no problems. Okay, I had a hard time getting online to put them in, but once I was on, I was unstoppable. Even with the website being in a different language and kicking me off every half hour. I had two classes make me tear up on our last days together, but I refrained from really crying till my last night in China. 

See, we were leaving on a Friday for Beijing. The school required us to teach that entire week. So, I was directing classes up to 5 hours before we left for the train station. Thankfully, I had my entire apartment almost completely cleaned the few days before. Much thanks to my dear students who came over and helped. So, when I got out of class on Friday, I rushed to my apartment and did my few last minute things, eager to have the evening to myself to say goodbye at a leisurely pace. HA!

We have a saying in China, things change every day and nothing ever goes how we plan. God had a different plan for my last few hours.  A few minutes after I finished, I received a  frantic phone call from my teammate Depreena. She was WAY behind cleaning and needed help desperately. I looked heavenward and silently asked the Father why I had to do this instead of having my much needed leisure time. He reminded me that as a team, we worked together. And wouldn't I want help if I was behind? So, I put my big girl panties on and went downstairs. When I reached Depreena's apartment, I saw she was right. She had so much to do, way more than the two of us could handle. So, I called in the cavalry! That being, my two dear freshmen sisters, Bee and Jo. The phone conversations went like this.

"Hi Bee/Jo, this is Hilary!"
"Hilary! How are you? What are you doing?"
"Oh, not much. I am just helping my friend Depreena clean her apartment before we leave."
"Oh! Cleaning, do you need help? Can I come help? Please let me come help!"
"Ok sure!"
*click*

No joke. They were such good spirits about it and loved that they got to be with me. They were the ones who had helped me clean my place earlier that week, so they were getting pretty good at quick cleaning. Anyways, we got Depreena's apartment cleaned with little over 45 minutes to spare. We were machines. I don't think I have ever cleaned that fast.

 I walked through my apartment one last time. Reflecting on all the conversations and laughter that these walls had heard. Then, I hauled my two carry-on bags down the stairs. All 14 of us teachers waited downstairs for the bus to come pick us up and transport us to the train station. While we were waiting, over 50 students slowly accumulated outside our apartments to say goodbye. None of my students from my classes came to see me off, per my requests. But, the students whom I had formed friendships with, did. I was doing fine, I was okay with letting them cry on me. Then that darn bus came. I looked and saw the approaching headlights and something inside me cracked. Everything that I had been squishing down, poured out. I couldn't help it, I started crying. It was really happening. I was leaving. I tried to hide my tears, I tried to stop them, but it was all for naught. I quickly made my rounds again, hugging my dear friends tight and silently praying our Father's protection over them and that He would allow me to see them again in my lifetime.
 Jo, my sweet sister, came up and latched onto me, and we cried together till Father Dan came and told us to get our butts on the bus. I was so angry at God then. I had to isolate myself so I sat up front, put my headphones in and ignored everyone. I hate crying in front of people. And I especially hated that my team could see how raw my emotions were at that point. They had never seen me that open before and I did not like it. It was too much. I rode to the train station in anger. Anger at God, and at the world. I realized that I didn't want to leave.

I gained control of my emotions by the time we reached the train station, but I refrained from speaking to anyone till we actually boarded the train and got into our compartments. It was safer that way.

We got into Beijing around 6:30 am but had to wait at a Starbucks because we could not check into our hotel rooms till 1 pm. Slowly, all the teams began trickling in and I got to see people who I had not seen since Thailand. It was nice. I got to reconnect and share stories. By the time I was settled in my hotel room, the anger had melted away with the cool summer rain that was falling in Beijing. Coffee and a shower also helped with that too. The anger left and I was able to squish those pesky things called emotions deep down into their box they belong in. Or so I though.

We stayed in Beijing till Monday morning, which was when our flight to America was going to be. Sunday night, we had our dismissal and I felt that old feeling of emotions creeping up. We took communion together which was a beautiful thing. Well, it would have been if I wasn't such a ditz. There I was, sitting next to my friend Josh and we go to take communion. At the appropriate moment, I pop the chunk of bread into my mouth and begin chewing. It only took me a few seconds to realize something was wrong. Oh crap! I had forgotten to take my gum out of my mouth. Warm gum melded with cold bread. I began to gag a little. To save myself some embarrassment I ran to the restroom to spit out the offending wad of gum and bread mixture. Thoroughly grossed out still, I tried to be calm and maturely resume like nothing had happened. Josh, who was very observant, had witnessed the whole thing and was silently laughing when I sat down. It took all of our will power to not giggle out loud. Imagine the horror of giggling during such a serious time. So folks, don't ever chew gum when you know communion is going to be served. Communion is now officially ruined for me.
  
Later that evening, I was sitting by myself, having an internal fight with that pesky emotions box that was refusing to stay shut. My lovely team leader, Danielle, knew me very well after a year of living with me. We talked, and then it all came out. I completely lost it again. If I thought my tears a few nights before were anything, this was way different. Where before my heart cracked, that crack full on burst open and shattered something inside me. Me, the teammate who had a hard time opening up about her feelings and emotions, on the last day, finally broke down that wall. It was the most vulnerable I have ever felt. We all crowded into Danielle's room and talked, hugged and then went to bed. 

We were up early, I barely got any sleep. I think I got a total of 3 hours that night, which was going to mean a horrible day of travel for me. We arrived at the airport at 6 am Beijing time. The plane from Beijing to Hong Kong was 4 hours. I was awake and less miserable because I got to spend the entire flight next to Laura Love, my dear friend who taught in another city! We had quite a pleasant time. 

The remnant of us navigated the Hong Kong Airport with skill and ease that we had not yet possessed our first time through eleven months ago. My carry on bags were stupidly heavy, and I dared any security to search my bag. It was so packed that, if they made me unpack it, I would cry. The 15 hour flight from Hong Kong to LAX was a fast one. I was awake for the whole 15 hours and watched too many movies. But now, I began to feel excited. I was going to see my mom! When I got to LAX and through customs, I did a stupid thing. Like I said, I am an avoider. So, I avoided saying goodbye anymore. I quietly slipped away from the group and went off in search of my terminal. No one noticed, and no one missed me, so it was ok. (well, so I thought. I got scolded by a friend a week later via facebook chat for skipping out like that. Whoops.)

I still had a few more flights to go. *big sigh* I had to fly from LAX to Las Vegas, and then from Las Vegas to Florida where I would stay with my aunt and uncle and mom for a few days. The flight to Las Vegas was BORING! I had no one to talk to and my mind was swirling with emotions. I was also in a bit of shock. I could now understand EVERYONE!!! And everyone could understand me. And, there was American food EVERYWHERE!!! The first thing I bought was a sandwich and a Jamba Juice Smoothie!

By the time I got on my flight at Las Vegas, I was stir crazy. The four and a half hour flight couldn't end soon enough. Again, I was awake for the whole flight. I had never been awake for so long. When I arrived in the Florida Airport I was practically skipping down the deserted corridors. Never mind the fact that it was 2 am in America/ 3pm in China and that I had been awake for over 24 hours, I was going to see my mom!!! 
I made a turn and there was the gate, and just outside it, was my mom. My bleary eyes spotted her and she me. I don't remember much because of exhaustion, but my mom says all I kept saying was "I'm home, I'm home!" I hugged her for a very long time. We cried and then my uncle took us to their home. I was home. I was with my family. The pain and sadness I felt not 30 hours ago was gone. Well, not gone, but stuffed back into the box labeled "Pesky Emotions". They wouldn't surface till a week later when I was back in Indiana. But for then, I just was happy to be home. I would process the sadness later.

I am home now. I have an amazing job teaching at my old High School. The Father blessed me with this job and I love it. I get up everyday with the same enthusiasm I did when teaching in China. I teach mostly middle school age kids and have found that suits my personality quite well. There are days when I miss China, my students and my dear friend who shared those experiences with me, but I know that the Father has me here for a reason. Writing this post is one of the last pieces of the processing and healing puzzle. 
Ecclesiastes 3 says it best. "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance. 
Well, I have been uprooted, wept and mourned. It is now the time in my life to plant myself in my life here, laugh with my friends and family, and dance the steps that God has placed in front of me. I hope to continue posting blogs about my teaching life and crazy things that happen. Because anyone who knows me, knows that where ever I go, shenanigans are bound to follow.

Peace and Love from this Sassy Owl Girl!