Closure

Now it's getting very close. I've already marked off my last Sunday, Monday and Tuesday in Chicago. I've gotten all my visa/student permit paperwork in order. My room is sublet. All that's left is packing and a lot of saying goodbye.

I said goodbye to my capital F Friends at Evanston Friends Meeting this past Sunday. They've been a wonderfully supportive community for the past 3 years and I owe so much of my inspiration and fuel for this new chapter to them. I said goodbye to my Lookingglass family last night over a delicious meal, enlivened by stories from the days of old, including 2 I'd never heard before, a thing I'd not thought possible. I bid farewell to my other theatre company, New Suit, on Monday at our last Company Meeting, officially downgrading my status from Tier 1 (Willing to put in a lot of time and be in charge of stuff) to Tier 4 (Out of town, in grad school, in a coma or any combination thereof). And every time I see one of my close friends I ask, "Will I see you again before I leave?"

One of those friends recently observed that I've been talking as if I'm leaving forever. Or dying. Things like, "This is my last Monday." Or, "This is my last chance to eat Ronnie's mom's delicious falafel." Or, "This is the last time I'll forget to see if there's a day game before biking down Clark Street." It's not that I don't think I'm coming back. I'm planning to come back. I have a return ticket. It's just that I like closure, marking the moments and acknowledging, "This has been meaningful to me." I think of it as if I'm leaving a party that Chicago and various communities within it have been hosting for the past 15 years. The courteous thing to do before leaving the party, is to thank my hosts and say good night.