After the jarring, draining, necessary annoyance that was putting all my stuff into storage and getting out of my apartment, I spent my last few days in Seattle running errands and hanging out with friends. Then Coco and I drove to Portland to visit my Dad.
One of my favorite things about visiting my dad is doing nothing. When I go to visit my Mom...something I will be doing very shortly...it's always good, but it's also always work. I remember coming home from college for the first time. Mom had a list of chores for me to do. Welcome home! Now we can move the couch and flatten that air bubble in the carpet. Yeah. Not that I begrudge her the help. It isn't easy being by yourself. There are definitely lots of household tasks that require extra hands, but when I go to my Dad's house I can laze and so can Coco. I think it's one of the few places either of us can just veg and not feel guilty. The first time Coco spent the weekend at my Dad's I knew she was hooked. He bought her a bottle of 3 olives vodka and several limes and we had an at home happy hour...me with my rum, him with his tanqueray. We didn't really go anywhere. We didn't see the gardens or check out a new club. We barely made it to the bookstore and Target and that was perfect.
Since then we've tried to make it a monthly appointment...just the three of us and a whole lot of nothing. I guess nothing isn't nothing though. On the drive up, Coco and I process. We catch up, talk about our lives past and present. This drive was the same, except that we both knew I wouldn't be driving back with her. That's the hard part. After Shoshana's move to DC, I suppose I understand it better now. It's always easier to be the one leaving. There is a certain amount of momentum and excitement to leaving. The one who stays behind gets stuck with a friend shaped hole where that person used to be. Every time I ride the #5 bus, I catch myself thinking about getting off by Shoshana's house...except she doesn't live there anymore. Or if it's a beautiful day, I think oh I should call her. We can walk to Greenlake, but she's gone. And so even though it was another fun weekend of at home happy hours and tax free shopping there was this bitter-sweetness to it because I understand now as that extra bit of loneliness you feel when one of your everyday friends skips town. It's like Kahlil Gibran wrote many years ago...even though we walk hand and hand on the path to infinite our journey is our own. My personal journey is one that has required quite a bit of leaving. I just hope my friends will understand.
Coco stayed through the 4th which we spent barbecuing with my Dad's new friends and laughing at his failed attempts to communicate in Spanish. It was actually one of our more adventurous outings. We started at one friend's house where we ate a lot of meat tacos, then we took the entire party with us to somebody's cousin's house where there was grilled corn, even more meat, and vodka with blueberry and blackberry filled ice cubes. Someone strung up a piñata for the children. There was music and dancing, tequila and really good tres leches cake. A good time was had by all. I made plans with some of the people there to go dancing the following weekend.
During the week, though Dad had to work and I had to watch the Harry Potter marathon and repack my suitcase compulsively again and again, we did managed to meet up for Happy Hour. I explored the neighborhood, finding 2 yoga studios, 2 nail salons, the Starbucks with free wifi, and a Jewish Community Center with an indoor soccer complex, massage therapy and an olympic sized pool. Didn't get to swim, but did go to yoga a few times. On Friday Dad only had to work in the morning so by noon we were at Casa Colima for a five hour lunch with his new friends. The next day we went down by the river to read and chill, then I went out salsa dancing...see my next post for details on that. The week went by so quickly and then it was time for the next leg of my journey. On to AZ...
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