Dispatches from the Long Walk: "Momentary Panic"

I woke up this morning alone in our empty bedroom and I had this momentary panic, as I realized that this is our last day in Saipan, that all of this--this life that we've known for almost a third of my life is finally and irrevocably over. I don't usually think about that. After all, we've left so many times before--for various school trips, for a month or so during the summer. Most of the time it feels like just another trip (only we are way overpacking!)

But this morning as I lay in bed, I allowed myself to meditate on the reality for a few moments, and it was indescribably sad.

Why did I wake up alone, you ask? Well, it's a funny thing, as our time here draws to a close it seems everything has begun to fall apart around us. The air conditioner in my classroom, which has been a workhorse since it was installed in 2000, always blowing the coldest air in the school, has finally started to struggle. The last week of summer school was rather humid. Our car, the CRV, has been overheating a lot (mostly only when you don't press on the gas)and the air con has been spotty there too. Yesterday, my cell phone started acting funny. I can't answer calls, but I can make calls. I can't send text messages, but I can receive them. I've started just checking my "missed calls" every now and than, because strangely any attempted calls show up there. And last of all--the reason I slept alone--is because the air conditioner in our bedroom is also on the fritz. It works enough to keep the room a moist, tepid temperature but it was too hot for Babs' and Elijah's taste, so they slept in Barbara's studio. There absence this morning just adds to the general sadness.

Well, I must pack some boxes and I have a feeling Elijah will need attention soon. I can hear him talking to himself upstairs.