Tomorrow morning I will get up when my sister is getting ready for school so I can tell her goodbye. I will put the last of my things into my car, and I will go to Aurora to say my goodbyes before getting onto I-80 and heading off to Peru. The mechanics of it are simple, but the idea that I'm about to do it is almost too much to bear.
Jacob came over tonight to watch Dr. Who. I wasn't (and still am not) done packing, so we ended up doing that instead. I realized about half way through packing that this was the first time I've had to pack by myself. Usually my mom or my aunt Linda is helping me. Making sure I never take a box to the car that can fit one more thing into it, and making sure I'll be able to find my things until I'm fully unpacked. But this time, it was all me.
We never got around to watching Dr. Who. Instead we went for a drive. The last drive before I leave. When I suggested it, I was half joking. But when he agreed, the realization settled over us both, and we bolted out to his truck. Desperate to fit in one last drive.
As we pulled into my driveway and I reached for the handle, I turned to say goodbye. Usually it's just a simple "See you later!" But as I tried to pull the words out of my mouth, I could only think, "I'll see you next month." I felt the idea of the tears start to well up, and ,realizing he's never seen me cry before, I hopped out of the truck and went inside.
My cat followed me upstairs and I picked him up. He just stared at me with his big, green eyes. Owly eyes as my grandma calls them. I just looked at him, remembering him as a baby and how he's grown before my eyes. All the changes and purrs I'll miss. It's so silly to be emotional about leaving a cat, but here I am, bawling like a baby. Two down, two to go.
I have to stop and see Grandma before I leave. That woman has done so much for me in my life, but especially in the last few years. Tuesday while I was at work, she filled a laundry hamper with laundry soap, dryer sheets, a roll of quarters, a package of paper plates, a pack of paper bowls, a pack of Styrofoam cups, a baggie full of silverware, a bottle of dish soap, a roll of paper towels, a pack of scrubbing pads, a box of tea, and a bag of my favorite chips. She also gave me an ottoman out of the camper with a set of her towels from the camper and the set of towels my aunt took to college. She's done so much for me, and I don't know that I'll ever be able to thank her enough.
I also have to stop by the museum on my way out of town. I'll be saying goodbye to the place as much as, if not more than, to Megan. She's so lovely. She's been there for me through the crazy scholarship period, the extreme Senioritis, the summer slump, the long nights, and the thought filled days. She and her family have loved me with open arms and warm smiles. Walking into that museum was one of the best choices I could have ever made, and I'm so glad I did it. I'm just bummed I won't be able to make it to coffee one last time before I go! Those boys have given me so much knowledge and so many smiles.
I also have to stop by the museum on my way out of town. I'll be saying goodbye to the place as much as, if not more than, to Megan. She's so lovely. She's been there for me through the crazy scholarship period, the extreme Senioritis, the summer slump, the long nights, and the thought filled days. She and her family have loved me with open arms and warm smiles. Walking into that museum was one of the best choices I could have ever made, and I'm so glad I did it. I'm just bummed I won't be able to make it to coffee one last time before I go! Those boys have given me so much knowledge and so many smiles.
Having to say goodbye to your 4 best friends (one of which is definitely not a cat) in a 12 hour time period is hard. I've tried really hard to not think about tomorrow for a good six months, but now here it is. Staring me in the face. As a lovely childhood song would say, "Can't go around it. Gotta go through it."
I know that it's only a 2 hour and 45 minute drive to come home. I know that I'll be back in the next few weeks to come to the State Fair. I know I'll be back next month for my dad's birthday and the museum's big weekend. But this is, without a doubt, the scariest month of my life so far. I'm going to a strange new place, full of strange new people, not knowing a single soul, without my mom to make my bed, and without my grandpa to hold my hand.
Oh, God. I have the ugliest cry face. I hope I can hold it together tomorrow.
Oh, God. I have the ugliest cry face. I hope I can hold it together tomorrow.
