In less than a week, I must suppose, Halifax will be home. Between then and now, the list of both chores and pleasures to accomplish billows in multiple directions. One suitcase is packed and ready; the second is mostly full. The computer’s been backed up, the iPod is mostly loaded, and I’ve updated my address book. I’ve kept long ago made obligations to do presentations at AASL and CLA and had lots of fun seeing librarian folks in both Reno (who knew one could have fun being a librarian there?!) and Long Beach (in spite of the smoke). Thanks to YALSA and the good humors of Terry Jacobsen and Jonathan Furner, the presentations went smoothly and people seemed to have a good time to boot.
Today stands as the singular no-obligations day in the whole week: no appointments, no trains, no workshops, no planes. It started with a boom: my son’s long hoped for college acceptance. So, now I can leave knowing that that particular sword of Damocles isn’t hanging.
The afternoon brought a sad time however: saying an unwanted goodbye. I’ve left other cities and other friends before and each time, there’s someone who stands out from the crowd of receding faces, the person I always believed would be in my life forever. The comfort, for me, is that each of these times that person hasn’t been lost. Like that sappy song we had to sing in Brownies, “Make new friends/but keep the old/one is silver/and the other gold.” But I don’t think she knows that yet, doesn’t know that she’s gold and the friendship stays.
