My daughter tells me – only you would rewrite your life in the space of twenty-four hours.
I'm thinking – twenty-four hours is a very long time.
I’m putting the condo up for sale tomorrow (sure, I’ll provide the link then; and a $500 off for the buyer who tells me she or he reads Ocean!).
In anticipation of change, I spend on this day many hours packing up books and clothes to pass on to various charities. I intend to keep things small. Really small. Thoughts and memories don't need closets. I shouldn't need closets.
It’s almost dusk, but not quite. Ed and I take the motorbike out to do the countless small errands that I defer because my teaching days (Monday through Thursday) are too full to allow for much else then. We stop by a shoe repair place. Cecil’s. Ed stays there to chat to Ron (Cecil) and to brush Ron’s cats. I pace in the parking lot of the strip mall and talk on my cell to my daughters. My decisions need a context. They want to hear the context.
A young boy comes by and tells me I should buy Mexican candy at his mom's shop next door.
We buy a few packs. Yes, of course, acquiring things I don't need (Mexican candy) runs against my determination to keep things simple on this day. But a little boy's face in the window surely permits for a sidestep. If life were to permit no sidesteps, we'd miss the joy of being surprised and teased out of our convictions.
After Cecil’s, we motor over to one of Ed’s very favorite eating places – Brasserie V. It's been a while since I could ask for a glass of rosé and not get a shrug and a shake of the head from the waiter.
We eat our moulles frites and we discuss my future options. They seem solid and good.
I wait for my other daughter to step off the bus tonight. She’ll be in Madison for the week-end. Yes, there's lots to talk about. Solid and good things, but you have to be prepared to see them that way. Through a glass of rosé perhaps.
[View condo for sale here.]