On Leaving America

19 February    Year of the water snake, I think.

Twelve days to go. I am totally freaking out. Time is passing by faster than greyhounds, and there is still so much to do. We must be out of the house on the fourth. Before that will be living in empty place for two days—with the cats and a mattress that will be picked up on the final day. Or we could go somewhere. A neighbor has offered us use of his guest bedroom and we might make use of that . . . or not. The neighbor has this cat that can go in and out of his house through a small cat door. Boots is a very bad cat and last week got in a fight with Morris who is an indoor cat. Morris had found a way to sneak out of the house and Boots tore him up pretty bad. Boots kills birds, including lots of humming birds. He is not beloved in the neighborhood. Six-hundred dollar vet bill to repair poor Morris. Even if we kept our cats locked in the bedroom . . . what it one got out, or in. They would need a sand box. Could we even get into a hotel with 2 cats? I should put that on our list: Hotel that takes cats.

Two days in Motel 6 . . . With cats. The cats know something‘s going on. Thank God they can’t imagine what is coming up. A neighbor will take us to the airport with so much luggage we need Sherpa’s. Lou and I will both be carrying one cat in a cage with a sling that goes over ones shoulder . . . this and two suitcases each. Then thirty hours of flight. I don’t care if it kills me. I just want it to be over. I am too damn old to be doing this. I’ve begun to feel old for the first time. There was a time when I became old, probably mid- fifties. I remember overhearing someone saying to another, “He’s that old guy, over there.” I suddenly saw them as they saw me, an older generation by a couple decades. I was suddenly aware that others thought of me as old. But I did not feel old.

I’m feeling old these last few days. I’m feeling tired, and Lou is too. We’ve been packing again. The things you really want to have available as long as possible. We’re packing our suitcases. What are the most important things? What will go in the limited space of carry on? What are the family jewels? Bucky is sitting on the table just behind me, looking at this monitor. It’s lucky he can’t read. “Not knowing is the strength of man and beast.” Who said that? Bucky wants a snack, of course. I give him one and satisfied, he saunters off. Sometimes I think it’s more he wants to make me do something than he wants the snack.