Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Last Day

It's absurd. I can't remember what we did that day. I think most likely we spent it doing errands and getting last little things done, but I have no clear memory of it. I can't even say positively that Kirk didn't go to work.

I'm not sure what that means. Maybe it's a deep refusal to think about him leaving. Maybe it shows that at the time I was very comfortable with his going, and so there was no strong emotion to firmly pin a memory to the time. I'm inclined to think the latter, because it's quite true that I was calm about it, that we were both confident in the decision. But as with so many things over the last three years, I find myself questioning and second guessing. Perhaps I just think I should be somehow refusing to remember that day.

Second guessing, and third guessing until there's no finding reality any more. It's a pointless exercise.

I do know what we did that evening. There were two choices to find a place to watch the ocean if you were leaving from our house. We could head west down our street and end up at the Fitzgerald Marine Reserve. When we wanted to go star watching (when it was clear enough) we would choose this way. But that night we went north, and walked carefully through the fields - dodging the dual hazards of gopher holes and dog poop - and chose one of the less precarious benches.

The cliffs are fairly high there, and the benches far enough back from the friable edge that you can't really see the waves crash into the rocks at the base. Instead, in the dark you can see the ghost light of white crests rolling in, and hear the roar as the water pounds into the hollows below.

And we talked, for over an hour. Comfortable talk, happy talk, warm and loving talk about the future, and our plans.

It was a good night.

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