So the new adventure begins for me soon. The moving van will arrive to pack our belongings and make the long trek across the country. I will pack my puppy and my great kid and my Mary Poppins snow globe up in his car and send them on their way to meet up with me in a few days. The car will be en route and I will be too soon. To quote the Peter, Paul and Mary song, I’m leaving on a jet plane; don’t know when I’ll be back again.
Emotions and feelings are flooding my senses now. These past few weeks every time I’ve done something, every time I’ve talked to someone, every task I’ve tackled, every thought I’ve had has had a pounding beat behind it: the last time, the last time, the last time. I don’t know if I’ll ever visit my father’s grave again. I don’t know how many of the people I interact with on a daily, weekly, monthly basis will ever cross my path again. I don’t know if the roads I’ve driven on for years will ever be beneath my feet again. I don’t know if the local radio station (the great CBS-FM led by the equally great Scott Shannon) or the local television station (WNBC and the morning crew which wakes me up and entertains me every day) will be available for me to listen to or watch where I’m going.
I don’t know if the sun setting on Point Pleasant Beach will look the same where I am, or if I’ll see the Atlantic Ocean again. I don’t know when I’ll get to go to see the Somerset Patriots again, that wonderful minor league ball team that has $1 hot dog nights, fantastic seats behind home plate for $10 and encourages people to get up and do the chicken dance between innings.
I don’t know if I’ll ever see the wonderful women who help me keep myself presentable when I visit their salons. I don’t know if I’ll get to talk again to the great and beautiful woman at Dunkin Donuts who hears my voice say “hello” and knows what I want to order that day without me telling her.
And I don’t know when I’ll see my DC girls and my Burke cousins and my best friend, Jimmy Courage, again and that is the toughest part of all. The person I am, the person I was, the person I became, the person I’ll always be could not exist without their support and friendship and kindness and love. And I know – because I wrote about it recently – that social media means we are all only a click away from each other. But even if I didn’t see all these special people often, it’s the idea, the notion, the life raft I cling to that I could see them when I wanted or needed. And now it will require more effort, more planning, more money, more time and spontaneity and “just because” will be removed from the equation.
So even though I’m sad, I’m also happy that there is a great future waiting out there for me. There’s a new adventure, a promise of new experiences, a dream of a happily ever after. And isn’t that what we all want? We want to know, or at least hope, that our best times are not behind us, that beyond the blue horizon waits a beautiful day. I believe that; I have to believe that; I will believe that.
Off I’ll go soon. Wish me luck and know when I leave here in a few days that, like Peter Pan, I’ll be headed to the second star to the right and straight on ’til morning.