Wednesday

Last night was our last night in this house. Dan and I finally got a good night's sleep. Dan up at 5, me 6, we feel ready to tackle the last bits of the move. Even though I think my mind is free of crazy worry, I had a mild asthma/panic attack. I did some breath work (2 counts of an easy, full breath in expanding my belly and 4 counts of an easy exhale forcing all the air out with my belly, repeated until relief comes) and felt back to normal. There is no food or plates in the house so the plan is to work until 9, when Las Delicias opens, and have a last smothered breakfast burrito. Today's agenda is to get all the donation stuff to the curb for pick up, pack up the last remaining boxes, get those in the garage and pack the clothes and toiletries. Interspersed will be laundry, my final dentist appointment, Susan coming to get her final things and a guy from Craig's List is coming to get the bed. We will head over to mom and dad's to stay until we leave. Today is dads 80th birthday so mom is making a nice meal.

Sue, Irvin, Savannah, Jeremiah, Josiah, and Jonathan came by to get the rest of their things. Susan's eyes are red from crying, she breaks down three times while she is there. Once, when I give her the coconut wind chime we got in Kauai, and told her to think of us when the wind made it sing and again when I gave her a plate Dan had made in first grade. Irvin enfolds her in his strong, loving arms as she cries into his chest. Susan and Irvin are meeting us tomorrow to help load the truck, as they say goodbye Savannah realizes that she won't be coming. It's their wedding anniversary tomorrow and they're going to spend the day together. Savannah had this crushed look on her face so I go over and gave her a hug. She started crying and, with tears in my eyes and a shakey voice I tell her a story. She was about 3 months old and we were at their house, I was holding Savannah and looking into her big blue eyes. She was looking right back into mine. We held each others gaze for about a minute. During that time I felt this powerful surge of love and joy infuse every bit of my being. I have never felt anything so powerful before in my life. After that, she just loved me with all her heart. She would always be by me when we'd visit and ask after me when we were not around. She smiles and asks me if I remember that time we made a cake, her eyes still a little damp. As they drive off, Dan say that was the saddest part so far.

With Susan and mattress guy gone we go to Las Delicias for breakfast only to learn that they don't open until 11. Crikey! Since we were running late, Dan takes me to the dentist and we have Einsteins on the way. Wolfing down green chili bagles with jalapeño (me) and sun dried tomato (Dan) cream cheese and sipping on a Starbucks coffee, we go over our plans for the rest of the day. We need to get a pin for the trailer hitch, water bottles for the dog crates, the rest of the chantix prescription and back home to pack up the remaining things and get the boxes in the garage before heading over to mom and dads. Sitting in the parking lot of the dentist's office, we have a moment of respite. Inside, Dr. Chapman says my implant looks great. OK, off to run the errands. Standing in line at the pharmacy Dan cracks a genuine smile. It's good to see him smile, he's doing such a great job, dilligently attending to the details, but it's really stressing him out. Fortified with coffee and cigarettes, we trundle on, we are exhausted, one foot in front of the other, one step at a time. Mentally fuzzy and barely able to hold ourselves upright, we mozy on home to finish the packing.

Four hours later (2 hours longer than we thought it would take) we are done for the day. Everything that is left is in 1 room, about 4 boxes worth. I can get those packed while Dan, Susan and Irvin load the truck and Betty cleans the house.

Bedraggled, we arrive at mom and dads. We are dirty and smelly. A quick shower is in order. Did I pack my sweats in the suitcase, the boxes for Brian or the boxes that are being shipped? I guess I'll find out soon enough!

Walking into moms home it's warm, smells good, and, as always immaculately clean. We put our things away, wash up and head upstairs to see what's cookin. The table is decked out for dad (who is still at work) her fine china, wine glasses and champagne glasses stand ready. Simmering on the stove is her meat sauce: 1/4" cubed steak slow cooked in tomatoes to be tossed with penne pasta, covered with mozzarella cheese and baked until golden brown and bubbly. We have a beer, some prosciutto and olives and catch up.

Mom's Spanish Style Macaroni and Cheese

Mom's Rum Cake

Dad came home so we go upstairs to eat. Tonight is hard. They are brave, courageously holding back tears. Are they afraid I will get mad if they cry? I hope not. Their cover is broken when a life long buddy, Marta calls. She wants to celebrate dads birthday Friday, he says he won't be in the mood for celebrating. He tries to get her to come with us tomorrow night, unsuccessful, he passes the phone to Dan where he lays on the guilt. "we'd like to see you before we go". She already has plans. Dan passes the phone to me. I try, unabated, I say I'll forgive her if she promises to make my folks happy. She says they'll take care of each other, encouraging me to "go, live your life". We cry and I pass the phone to mom, she's upset too but recovers and they make plans for Saturday. I'm truly grateful for my parents, the life they have given me, the experiences they have shown me, the love they have folded Dan and I in.