Today, there are numerous people trickling in from out of town for Toby and my post-wedding/now going-away party. And I’m excited. Even though I anticipate crying often, realizing this is the last time I’ll see many of them for a while.
I always cry. I cried last night during ER (again).
I just really dread saying goodbye.
When I was a kid, we moved often. And I remember the few days leading up the our pending roll-out and how I could not stand the act of actually leaving. I used to promise myself that I would not turn around once we’re in the car. I would not turn to see who might be waving. It bothers me that distance forces objects to become smaller. I might dedicate the rest of my life trying to alleviate this phenomenon and our perception of size. But there’s a strong suit for everyone. And that sort of task is not one of mine.
(I read once about an architect who designed an airport where the person leaving left from the second floor. So when their loved one was there watching them enter into the boarding area they had to ride escalators to get to the top which was lined with glass, exposing sky. That way, even though the leaver would inevitably be getting smaller, they’d be rising at the same time.)
I have left many times. I have disappeared in the middle of the night. I have left after people have all gone to work. I have left notes, and past-due rent checks, little presents and sometimes nothing. I am the ugliest leaver there is. And all my actions have been based entirely on fear.
And so life is funny.
Life is funny because we’ve had this party planned for months now. We’ve known who we’d like to invite. I’ve pictured the evening in my head over and over again. We knew we wanted it to take place around May 1st. How was I to know then that we’d be moving to San Francisco not a week later?
Life is funny because this weekend I’ll be forced to face my ugliest fear. The fear of leaving, distance, and that of objects becoming smaller. And I wish I had the name of that airport now.
Mihow 
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