9 Days ...

This is home. Late afternoon sunlight on back deck, the highway beyond the trees, my dogs asleep in the kitchen. My blue jeep displaying her patches of rust in the driveway. It’s a good place to be, but it’s almost time for me to waddle across the ocean.

This is how you leave the country

1. Buy a suitcase, preferably on sale. I choose red, but black will suffice. Both are in style.
2. Make shopping lists you’ll never use - because you’ll loose them. This will happen a minimum of 3 times.
3. If you happen to be leaving for Greece sometime next week, don’t tell your mom half the country is on fire.

John drove up from St. Cloud last night. We grilled burgers and took a long walk. The trail was dark, and we stumbled over roots and ducked under branches. He leaves for Madagascar on Tuesday.

This is how you say goodbye

1. Cook oatmeal for breakfast.
2. Find a good song on the radio.
3. Laugh.

I don’t believe anything really begins. We simply transition, pick up our bodies, and plop down in strange rooms filled with strange people, or return to warm rooms filled with familiar smells, old friends. There is nothing left for me to do, except repack my suitcase, dig around for those lists I lost and turn the radio up.

Everyone is leaving. Aaron left for Japan. Johanna left for Tailand. Ryan left for Sweden. Robert left for France. Ben left for Nepal. John is leaving for Madagascar. Raquel left for Chile. The stories will tell themselves. I’m on my way.