For this trip to Lopez I am actually staying in my usual spot—a little cabin Holly B. the baker owns. But, I was out for a drive tonight, listening to Patty Griffin and watching the light in the trees, and I happened to end up here at Mackaye Harbor Inn. I got out of my car and went down memory lane, peaking into the windows and such. The owner soon arrived on his bike, and he offered me a glass of port and said I could sit in his carriage house, which overlooks the water. So, here I sit.
I forgot my camera, or I would let you in on this view. The water is shimmering and the lone sailboat is elegant. A few people are finishing up kayaking for the day.
It's my last night on Lopez this summer and the conclusion of yet another writing retreat. My first such retreat was here 3 years ago, a retreat that actually helped me produce a story that ended up being my first published piece. It's good to reflect on the last several years and feel all the gratitude for a journey that proves ever mysterious, though grace-filled.
Today, it's been harder to focus on my writing, because I think I'm starting to really get it that I am saying goodbye to Seattle in less than 2 weeks now. These past few years have been a season of such exquisite community—so many people who taught me about love and kindness and joy and generosity. I am glad it is hard to leave, but the gratitude doesn't make the parting easier.
I am never good at endings, even the simple endings of regular moments in a day. I want to hug Seattle a 100 times before I leave. This particular technique is how we say goodbye in my family. Lots of hugs. You start the hugs about 20 minutes before you leave because there are ever so many rounds of them. So, I guess it's time to start my hugs....
At least at this point in my life, I've come to trust that there is a place prepared for me as I step ahead into the unknown. But, I hope life circles back; I hope there can be an integration of favorite people to come and the dear ones I will be saying goodbye to.
