Leaving San Diego

It was time to move. The brown coffee stains had been wiped from the gray tile kitchen floor-and walls. I had harvested oranges from the tree in the front patio. My ring finger was bleeding after a poke from a screw while caulking around the fireplace chimney. Was this symbolic of the blood shed between my wife and I during this move? Our renters would be here any moment. There was talk of a "pit bull." So many offenses will be overlooked. It was now all in the hands of a property manager. While driving past the front yard, there would be no returning after work-(nevermind that I am not working just now); no Victoria's Secret catalogues from the brass mailbox and no rat trap to check in the garage. All would be different now. We were on our way to Kalispell, Montana to be with the kids and grandkids. But first, we must spend two weeks in motels, and camping, while my wife finishes her work. I must remember the words of Anais Nin..."Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage." I feel myself shrinking. But then again, Homer said, "There is a strength in the union even of very sorry men." Maybe together, we will make it. "No Dear, I am not calling you sorry.....I'm just saying......"