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Jet Planes

All my bags are packed,

I’m ready to go….


We held a going away potluck/party. This was originally planned for our daughter, but quickly changed to a whole family event at a local park shelter house.


The wonderful thing about going away parties, is that you get to see everyone you care about and bask in the warmth and caring and goodness that is a relationship.


The bad thing about going away parties is that you see everyone you care about at exactly the same time.  This is tough for the more introverted among us. (Try this!) Feeling a need to spend time with everyone and really only skimming the surface with each. This doesn’t really represent what a relationship has been all about.  At a party like this, there isn’t time enough to say all the things you’d like to have said if you had time to have that cup of coffee or that second drink or maybe dessert.


Emotions, too, come into play later, forcing you awake in the middle of the night mulling over the things that you said or didn’t say even when you did have the time.


If I had a choice to say goodbye, I’d like to buy my world a Coke. Not in perfect harmony, but rather solo, 1:1, for an hour or two each.



You may recall the sky lanterns from a couple entries ago. They made a return at the party.  


Z took the lot and gave ’em out to guests to write a message on. Then we did a mass launch.  It was a beautiful sight, watching them float away in the dusk.

A quarter of them failed to launch, though. One of them launched slowly and then plummeted into the trees behind a police station (!?!). My son exclaimed “Wait! That represented all my hopes and dreams!”  

Sigh… Are we doing the right thing?


The last two weeks as we approach departure have been filled with trepidation, if not terror. What are we doing? Why are we doing this? How am I going to do this? Will our marriage survive? Will our family survive? Will the dog survive? If it is the wrong the thing to do can I come back? Even after a party? I mean, what is the statute of limitations on a potluck?


Taxi’s waiting,
Blowing his horn.
Already I’m so lonesome
I could cry.


I was 7 or 8 when I first heard that song.  At the time, I wondered why the singer would put themselves through all that obvious misery? There must be something pretty interesting at the other end of that plane ride. Obviously, it is hard for him to go. Here’s to interesting thing at the other end.


So, the taxi, or UBER, rather, will be here in the morning and this needs posted. 

We’ll have the same home phone number thanks to Magic Jack. We’ll have Skype and WhatsApp and FaceTime and IMessage and good old fashioned email. The city of Jakarta generates some 80 million tweets a day, so I might even tweet. Plenty of ways to keep in touch.  Leave a message if you’d like contact details.  

Also, feel free to visit.  There’s a Coke in it for you.



Photo credits to Cindy G.
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