Well, it's done then. Liz has moved and we can stop fretting about what will happen when she goes.
It is like a little piece of me has been pulled off and is on its way to Colorado. This is good and bad. Good because if a little piece of me is on a grand adventure then the rest of me is in on the fun. Bad because I am already lonely.
I was actually doing pretty well. I put together a play list of Liz Music and have been playing it pretty much nonstop. It's very much like having her here. I've been listening to The Beastie Boys, Adam Ant, Fatboy Slim, Moby, The B52's, J Geils, The Grateful Dead, G. Love, English Beat and a few of those MTV party-to-go mixes. It's pretty cheery. Except for the Moby song "Why does my heart feel so bad?"
Because it does.
Auntie Iss, as Lucy and Studley call her, was the emergency contact at Lucy's school. She was on the "permission to pick up" list. When she'd pick up Lucy, I could hear the shrieks of joy all the way out in the car - shrieks from both of them.
It occurred to me this morning at drop-off that I should change the emergency info. Auntie Iss just can't get there very fast anymore. I haven't changed it yet because I can't get out the sentence "Auntie Iss has moved to Colorado" without crying. And Lucy's teachers already think I'm a nutcase.
Earlier today I thought it was like Lyra and Pan's parting at the edge of the underworld in The Amber Spyglass. Except, okay, I didn't hold onto her and beg her not to go. I didn't pace at the edge of her driveway, whimpering. And I don't consider Colorado the underworld.
But otherwise, it's really close.
And as it turns out, Liz is driving across the country with the whole Philip Pullman trilogy on tape. Weird, that.
So I can't wait to hear about what kind of job she lands, how the house is shaping up, what the neighbors are like and so forth. I hope she sends lots of pictures.
And I hope her cats like road trips as much as I do. There is nothing like a good roadtrip.