It’s not goodbye, it’s see you later.
It’s not goodbye, it’s we’ll be back.
The three weeks since my last update on this blog have been to put it mildly, hectic. We drove down to California to have my family see us off. We dropped off Beverly’s car with her father. We flew up and picked up a rental car to see us through. And then we started to pack.
It is a curious thing sorting your stuff between four different bins. We threw out things we knew we no longer wanted. With our furnished apartment awaiting us, we recalculated our shipment. I started to pull out goods that we wanted to ship; six plates, six bowls, six glasses, four coffee mugs… it became litany almost to review what was going and what was staying. Four bath towels, but two won’t be packed until the final day because we need to run them through the laundry.
Calculate how many clothes you’ll need for a month and a half, but two weeks of that is for Portland, and the rest, it’s meteorological nemesis, Singapore. Pack that which needs to be the most handy in the carry-on. Calculate what you’ll wear in a hotel.
Look into the future; see yourself looking back. What are you wearing? What are you eating on?
It’s been difficult to detach my mind from this mode. The last several weeks have been without good sleep as my mind hasn’t been able to spin down for more than a few hours at a time. I take naps to catch up, when I can. I watched the first season of House of Cards – something – anything – to allow some peace of mind for an hour.
And tomorrow, we get on a plane for 24 hours.
It reached a fever pitch today with a full blown panic attack, my first, perhaps? Everything is ready to go, everything has been packed and repacked into the six checked bags and two carry ons, our whole life, in eight bags and change. There is no last minute any more – no, oh just one more thing; no recalculation. Maybe that’s what triggered freaking out. Maybe it’s the loss of control.
So I did something in response to stress I’ve never done before. I worked out.
It’s music, always music, that soothes me, and working out is the perfect excuse to listen to music without just sitting on your ass. It’s also incredibly hard to focus on how many blankets and towels can fit in a 20 gallon latching tote while running on a treadmill. Joe Strummer and Emily Haynes did what they do best to me, lowered my pulse, while I worked on raising it via exercise. This could be a great habit to form. I can hear the “I told you so”s lining up.
My dad is on his way up to Portland now. We’ll spend the night eating & talking & drinking, and to me, there doesn’t seem any more fit way to pass our final night in the City of Roses. It was us three that first came up, my dad coming up with Beverly and Mini and helping us get settled into the house. We’ll watch a bit of the Blazers/Warriors game, perhaps, we’ll have a great deal of laughs, and then, tomorrow morning, we’ll say goodbye to Portland.
It’s not goodbye, it’s thanks for everything, Portland. It’s we’ll stay in touch and we’ll absolutely see you in a few years. It’s not goodbye – it’s thanks for letting us find ourselves within you. Stay weird, you goofy city.