"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another." Anatole France


After reading this quote, all that conflicts me is clear. My melancholy certainly stems from a degree of homesickness. But, far more significantly, I am coming to terms with my own insignificance. As I entertain the possibility of leaving my home forever, I contemplate my very own demise - dying in one world to become reborn in another.

Oh, yes, that's a bit of melodrama -the metaphor too extreme. However, if one is coldly analytical and realistic, one cannot help but see some truth in this. If not present in the everyday fabric of someone's life, without a regular chat, meet for coffee, look in the eye one begins to fade. As I stay yet another year in New Zealand, I become at best a shadow in the community I left behind. And, over time, I cease to exist.

Descartes said, "I think therefore I am." Perhaps in my case it is best rephrased as "you think of me therefore I am" or better still "we have laughed together therefore I am." A more self-actualized person might not need the validation of others. Another person might not define themselves by their friends and community, but rather from within. I guess I am not there yet. I find tremendous satisfaction in being a part of something bigger. I like knowing people and, to be completely true, I like people knowing me. I hate the thought of being forgotten.

This is not a pathetic plea for affirmation. And, please, don't construe this as self -pity. It is a clinical assessment of the facts, my reality. I am grateful for all the friends and family who have kept in touch. I find solace in knowing that I will not be completely forgotten, that even across this equatorial line of division some connections can survive and even thrive. However, should I stay here, for many, if not most, I will disappear.

I understand this because not only have I been the forgotten one, I have been the forgetter. No one deliberately erases a friend from their life. But, in one's busy and rich world it is the here and now that matters most. The people we see at our jobs, in our neighborhood, at school, in our book groups - this is the reality. I see you therefore you are, I don't see you therefore you aren't. It's that simple.

Is staying in this beautiful country (and it truly is) worth being forgotten? Can a visit every one or two years sustain the memory or does it merely prolong the inevitable? Is this a mourning process that I'll one day get over or, will I be haunted by regret? I just don't know.

No one asked me to leave; no one packed my bags, sold my house and stuck me on the plane. And, no one ever said, don't come you back, you hear. Nonetheless this is where I am at, contemplating a deal with the devil and wondering if it's a deal worth making. Choice is a luxury, but also a curse.

Change is inevitable - except from a vending machine. Robert C. Gallagher