1 Car Ride to the first airport.
2 Bus rides between destinations.
3 blocks of walking lugging huge heavy bags.
4 Plane rides between five cities
5 train rides from one part of NYC to another.
And home. Thousands of miles away from home, but home nevertheless.
Makes you wonder how relative or absolute is the term home. How much of a variable is it, with dependables being the people who make your home, home. And how important is it.
I have wondered several times in the past few days what I am going to, and going away from. And what is following me there. It’s all relative. My realization of leaving
I packed up by house before I left. Because I am moving out of that apartment. The last two days in
Anyway, so I packed up my apartment. Everyone of the Gumbal got a little emotional about it. It was home for a lot of us. Even if we didn’t spend hours and hours together there. It was our haven in some ways. My apartment was always there to have fun in. It always had any ingredient needed, had our cooking sessions, our Friends marathon seasons, our talking into the nights, night maroing with coffee walks in the morning. Our haven. The new apartment has great expectations to live up to.