Jan 09 2008
T Minus One
I’m supposed to be washing my clothes and packing some money, so why did I just find a soggy fifty in the washer? My brain is acting like the 1930s wiring in my house, going dim whenever I try to use it. As I dashed around the house I heard myself chant, “This is fun. This is fun. This is fun…” — trying to convince myself.
All day I’ve gotten work calls about things I thought I was done with. Had a wrap-up meeting with a certain Miz S, for whom I do a pile of work. When I told her I was going to Costa Rica as well as Guatemala she shouted, “You ho’!”
One thing that’s got me a wee bit anxious is not having heard from the person whose house I’ll be staying in. “A couple blocks from Maria’s house south of town” is all I know of her location. Also, I don’t know if Don Toño still plans to pick me up in Guatemala City to drive me back to… someplace.
My house is littered with little packing notes to myself, written on whatever I could find at the moment of inspiration.
Yesterday I talked to my 94-year-old friend Mamma Ginna in West Virginia. I told her I’d call her next month as soon as I get back. What followed was a conversation similar to only two others in my life: with Dad and Granddad, when they knew they were about to die. Among other things, she wished me and Molly a good life.
I know we have to let our 94-year-olds go, but I don’t want to, and on the eve of my departure my heart is all sore.
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