They're officially over. Penultimates, I mean. We're now definitely (even decidedly) into the 'ultimate' range, since a week from today I'll be flying out of Utah and into Boston. So today is the last Tuesday I'll spend at home (even though I won't be home mostly--I'll be attending my sister's graduation and going off to a book club meeting and such).
And tonight will be the last Tuesday night I sleep at home in this little bed. And tomorrow will be the last Wednesday I spend at home, and I'll also have the last haircut done by this particular member of my ward, and then we'll be into the last Thursday and the last Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday and then...
Then...
On next Tuesday I'll be done. Done.
Done with seeing that lovely greening mountain just to the south of us, done with listening to the annoying crickets outside my bedroom window, done with living among stacks of boxes, done with seeing my family every day, done with Utah life. Perhaps forever.
But after that, I'll have a whole lot of firsts to go through. And so, I think I need to focus on how exciting and wonderful those firsts will be, rather than focusing on all these lasts going on right now.
Yeah. That's the idea.
And I'm still sad. And also happy. And. Just. Everything.
That's all.
5 comments:
Savor those mountains. Next to my family, it's the mountains I miss the most!
AND, this Thursday will be a first! First time we meet each other! And THAT, my literary friend, is "honestly" and "decidedly" pretty Bostonianly awesome.
Oh, agreed. AH-GREED. With both of you.
Mountains were the main feature of Utah I missed during my time in the Detroit Mission, so I already know I'll be longing for 'em pretty heavily. Sigh.
And I can hardly wait for Thursday! :) It is, in fact, the very first of all the wonderful firsts that await! (And I have decided that 'Bostonianly' is perhaps the coolest adverb ever invented.)
Since I haven't even reached the "penultimate" stage yet, I'm very impressed with your lack of teariness. With a little less than a month for me, and I start crying at choir rehearsal, talking to my neighbor, writing a mother's day card.... Maybe it's just cause I'm a boob. Who knows. I've even tried really hard not to think about it. Maybe I should. Maybe I should blog, too - wait, then I'd have to get a blog! Love you!
C'mon, Mary! Blog! Everybody else is doing it!
And it's strange--I tend not to get teary until the very last minute. I guess it's just because it takes so long for me to feel that whatever is happening is really, really real. So count on me getting weepy Tuesday morning as I leave the house here and weepy as I spend the day with you at your house. Or maybe just before I get on the plane. You know. Whatever.
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