I hope you know that I miss you every day.
I miss waking up with 3 (or usually 4 because Chels always made it in our room before I woke up) of the most incredible girls I've ever met. I miss singing and dancing with them, eating shekel shack candy, and watching The Sound of Music.
I miss Pita bread and fresh Zaatar.
I miss the feeling that every day counts, because you know how limited they are.
I miss painting at the Princess Basma Center.
I miss the classrooms with giant windows, where we tried to soak in every word we were taught. Furiously typing away on our computers.
I miss checking out at the bottom gate and walking past the playground to the bottom of the Kidron Valley. But I do not miss walking up it.
I miss stopping to buy gummies and love nuts.
I miss singing on Ben Yehuda street.
I miss pretending to study in the library and joining as many tables as we can so no one is left out at dinner time.
I miss pretending like I'm going to go on a diet and stay away from the Pita bar (Really Kaitlin... like half of these are about food)
I miss my Jerusalem family, and the never a surprise birthday parties in the loft.
I miss pillow puffs and workout videos. I miss the cooks and the guards, but mostly the teachers.
I miss the city, the people we meet on the street, the old man who walked us home from the post office, and the lady that kept insisting we take more candy because it was all she had to offer, and even the lady that said she could fix my skin problems with aspirin(?). I miss walking the streets and feeling sorry for the tourists in their bright colored hats and the small amount of time they had there. I miss marveling. I miss exploring. I miss tombs and sepulchres and Franciscan monks and camels and shittim trees and oil presses and Herodian stones and Greg's story time and even listening to Chaddy talk in that cat voice.
I miss it all. But every time I begin to miss Jerusalem, I can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for being able to really experience Jerusalem, for really being able to feel like its my home.
Last night my mom made me Zaatar Chicken and tomorrow I'm going to see Matisyahu in concert. Just little things that remind me of home. I'm smiling because it happened, it really did happen.