More than 8 weeks ago I had packed and shipped 4 boxes of my life back to Indonesia without realizing to bring working clothes in my own suitcase. For a month, stealing my sister's clothes kept me from looking like a hobo in the office. But last night when I came home, they were there. My boxes are there. I was in utter disbelief, was it tiredness that caused the hallucinations? I have read stories about this.

The next morning they were still there. My boxes have made it home. I took the morning off to rummage through them, opening each boxes brought a smile to my face. The joy of being reunited! Working pants! Proper shirt! Heels! Books! Bed cover! The drought is over!!!

Yet with more item I touched, the heavier my heart becomes. How long ago has it been since I lived with them in my room in Holland? I realized how they became an ambassador of my life there, a bridge that still needs to be reconnected. Heavy in reminiscence, I began pondering why I have yet to feel happy to be back.