A day before I leave

My twin sister is sitting next to me, writing a thank-you note for someone who has invested time into improving her health. Dana is feeling well today, not perfect but better than usual. She is not trapped by her own body, not curled up in a bed wanting to be relieved of her pain, to be "normal" again. She is free today at least.

"If I had been in New Orleans, I would have died," Dana said this morning, after watching images of people begging to leave the drowned city they once called home. We laughed nervously because we know it's true and because we know every time she gets sick, we do not know if she will make it. But, she always survives. She's a fighter, so are we.

It is too late for Dana and me to be up, but she scribbles black ink onto white paper and I tap letters into a computer screen, trying to share my life with you. I have never even been one to keep diaries or to jot my thoughts down, scared that someone would read what I had written. Quite frankly, I don't know what has gotten into me to allow me to let you in.

I have one more day until I leave to the Dominican Republic where I will spend ten months researching with a Fulbright grant. I am nervous, and I have no idea what I am getting myself into. I have yet to finish packing but somehow, I will surprise myself and get it all done. I want to go on writing; however, if I continue, I will be more likely to forget something that I should bring with me. So, I will stop here, at an unfinished thought, until I meet you again in Santo Domingo.