Departure Journals

Just finished the airport goodbye. It was surprisingly easy- saying that I’ll be back in six months helped a lot. Not too many tears this time. We’ve all been getting ready for today for a long time anyway.

Update: one of those things just happened that I should probably never tell anyone about. I realized that I was at the wrong gate. At  the Burlington airport. Where there are only four gates.

Well, I’m in my seat now. I was actually thinking about how successful my goodbye was, and almost forgot to get on the plane.

 Everything leading up to the goodbye: the tearing apart, the changing of routine, the sudden recognition of closeness, was the hard part. Now that I’m skimming the ground in the first plane I feel excited and lucky to breaking out of the familiar, although it still seems like this trip is planned for someone else, maybe because it was so easy and quick to arrange. Engines are speeding up. I remember how nervous I used to be, and the sense of foreboding I felt and the rapid apologies I would make to the great beyond for mankind and our nature-flouting inventions that overstep boundaries, that allow us to go where we are not supposed to into the great blue beyond. I’m still not sure that was so silly, or that a steamer ship wouldn’t be more fun.


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