Duchess of Bloomsbury

"The night before I left, two friends gave me a farewell party. I'd spent the day packing to the indignant fury of all my vital organs and I left the party early and was in bed and asleep by midnight. At 3:00 AM, I came staring awake, with my insides slamming around and a voice inside my head demanding:
'What are you doing, going three thousand miles from home by yourself, you're not even HEALTHY!'
I got out of bed, had hysterics, a martini and two cigarettes, got back in bed, and whiled away the rest of the night composing cables saying I wasn't coming"
- The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, 10


Helene Hanff does make it out of bed and on a plane to London the next day. As we all eventually do. I am always excited about going somewhere until, proportionally, close to the actual leaving date. So for instance, if I'm planning to spend the night at a friend's place, I wonder if I shouldn't stay home just as I'm pulling out of the driveway. On a trip to the other side of an ocean, the doubts start setting in a day or two before. I get nervous; not about what I will do when I get there, so much as wondering if I'll ever see anyone I love ever again. When I say goodbye, I make sure to say everything that needs to be said. Essentially, I spend the a couple of days mourning the life I won't have if I die in the next few weeks.

Once I'm in the airport, past security, then I settle back into my usual youngest-child philosophy of not worrying overly much. And, after all, its all worked out so far, right?