I’ve wondered for a while what I would do if I knew one day would be my last. Would I jump on a plane and go somewhere I’ve always dreamed of seeing? Would I call my family and friends to talk to them one last time? Or would I spend it quietly at home, going for a run or going fishing?
Yesterday was about grieving. Sadness held me in a big, cold hug. It felt oppressive and gray.
Today was about business.
I went for my last run here.
I ran down by the river and into downtown.
I ran through the park one last time. It was one of the first places I went when I moved here and I think it’s so cute.
I finished my cross-stitch project that I wanted to get done before I left. I think the K could be a little more left but the pattern was very vague there so it’s probably fine. Either way, I’m not changing it.
Finally, I finished packing. I hate packing. I put in a pair of socks and Zane came and took them back out and walked away with them. Eventually I put them in a plastic bag and he was sad.
I also watched Star Trek: The Next Generation pretty much all day, The Butler (which made me cry because I’m a big sissy sometimes), shipped my saddle off to the woman who bought it, and sometime later P and I will go to my favorite sushi restaurant in town for our last meal. I ate there right before NTC so now I feel like it’s my good luck ritual.
I thought I’d have liked to go fishing, or spend all day at the movies, or reading a book but as it turns out, there is no other way that I would have liked to spend my last day here than with the things I love most in all the world.