I hate good-byes. Oh, you know, not the kind of good-bye with a ‘see ya tomorrow’ or the polite good-bye with a ‘thanks’ to someone you don’t really know, as in a shop. But that real goodbye when you know you’re not going to see someone for a while, and you’re genuinely going to miss their company.
We had a very early start today to make sure to get Karen to Minneapolis/St. Paul airport in time for her flight. We pulled up amongst the taxis, limos and family cars dropping people, a hodgepodge of parking and unloading luggage, not an arena that permits a long, drawn-out farewell. In this case, it was probably a good thing. What can you say after a week’s adventures that we all (hopefully all!) enjoyed so much?
Cristal and I proceeded on a few feet to a motel in Bloomington at Mall of America. The last time I was here, many, many years ago, we were breaking up flights back to the UK after visiting a favorite ranch in Tucson. It was Easter-time, and in Tucson the temperatures were up around 90. As our plane descended into MSP, the captain announced to his passengers, many of whom were still in shorts, that the local temperature was 14 degrees. Headed back to temperate England, we had no hats, gloves, scarves, or suitable coats. It was all so unexpected.
Here in the generic motel room with its veneered furnishings and anticipated fittings, we unpacked Karen’s Mogen David wine that helps her get to sleep at night. That was unexpected, too, but gave us a happy reminder of her presence on the trip.