Near the end of things, such as selling your house, you find yourself saying to yourself (and others):
This is the last time . . .
. . .we'll all eat here together.
. . .we'll drive from here to there.
. . .we'll have to deal with that.
. . .we'll ever see you here. Like this.
And even if you follow that up with the ever so positive and promising:
The Next Time . . .
Having to hear that anything (be it a life or inanimate object) has a Last Time, is sad. It just is. But I guess that's how it always is when you are saying good-bye?
Here are some last times playing in the leaves in our backyard of the Boston house. These days have been like a roller-coaster of feeling happy and sad, feeling bored, on the verge, excited, quiet, tired. Our life is packed away now. In 48 hours it gets unpacked and the new chapter starts. The Next Time I write, we will be on that page. It's going to be awesome, for sure. It is also going to be very different. See you then.