First of all, it’s very, very hot.

Not that this is unusual, exactly, here in the south…in the summer, sure, it’s hot. But somehow compiled with the boxes we’re slowly filling with the random contents of drawers (trinkets and old photographs), the crew of handymen who have suddenly appeared to make improvements to our house before the new tenants arrive and all the other details, emotions and conversations related to leaving…for good…the heat seems abnormally oppressive. While I’d like to take a long, cold shower and relax with a cold beer and good friends and just be generally lazy and slow, instead, everything has taken on this air of urgency. And I’m constantly reminded that every time I do something it could be the last time I do it for a while, because we’re not going to live in North Carolina anymore.

I generally try and avoid the saccharin displays of weepiness that often accompany this kind of life change, but this time I can’t really help myself and have found it necessary to quickly alter my thoughts (”Think about something funny! Think about something funny!”) on several recent occasions when going over the various social events we have planned for the next few weeks. I mean, crying when I actually say goodbye is one thing, but just crying in the middle of day? That’s different.

And, I mean, it’s most difficult when I think about people - our friends - but not limited to that. This morning, J and I went to one of my favorite coffee places, Three Cups, where they are, yeah, a little snobby, only serving press pot coffee and all, but believe me, it’s so good you don’t care, and when we were leaving J mentioned that we should bring my brother, Vinnie, there sometime because he’d probably like it, and I reminded him that there wasn’t any time left for Vinnie to come visit us, because we are moving. And J said, but yeah, we’ll be back, and I just stood there with my paper cup, and thought that yes, it’s true, it’s not like we’re never coming back here, but we’re not going to live here anymore, and it’s a range of emotions I feel when I think thoughts like that - excited and sad and nostalgic and ready - but it’s certainly complicated, not something like simple stress or grumpiness that I could always appease with a cup of really amazingly good coffee, especially when very minor things like the very coffee shop where you bought it is one of the things, even just one of the minor things, I will miss.