The eleventh hour

It's happening. Tomorrow, all things being equal (is there a better way of saying this without invoking someone's god?), we leave, rain or shine.  I think we can safely count on rain. Alex is on his feet again. The boat is loaded, the bills paid, the house sorted. No, that's not true. Nothing is ever completely sorted but of course leaving is only nominally to do with tidying up finances and houses. It's about stepping out of the lives of those you love, trusting that you will be able to step back in when you return. For nothing stays the same, and we leave knowing that. Our children are young adults. Six months is a long time in their lives. My mother is in her mid 70s. My absence costs her, and I'm aware of this. Still, I'm excited to be leaving. I felt that surge, that lift tonight as I was making dinner.. We had planned to go out to eat, even down to choosing Sel et Poivre in Darlinghurst which serves my favorite seared calves' liver. Alex, who looks like he could do with a good steak these days, was indeed hankering after a steak and those wispy little French fries. But when we returned from the boat after dark, having packed away meat, cheeses and fresh fruit and vegetables, hung the remaining framed photos and peeled off HOBART from Kukka's stern and replaced it with SYDNEY, I had second thoughts. The warmth of the house wrapped itself around us, and then there was our cat Po. We're leaving her too. We could stick around one last night for Po's sake, couldn't we?  I could cook up a pot of sausage and fennel pasta sauce to take away with us,  plus mix up a batch of  hummus. Too easy, as they say.  My mind rapidly reasoned that if we ate at home I could also feed Sam, who was working the evening shift at the bottleshop up the road. We'd be there when Mikey swung by to borrow the car for band practice, and when Freddy and Claudia came home from a barbecue at their dad's place down the road.. Everyone was a winner. And this is precisely why I need to leave home! Something to do with comfort zones, and thinking that one is indispensable. And did I ever mention how much I enjoy the sea?