Goodbye

I'm in Alaska now, and in about four hours I'll be off the ground bound for Taipei.
I drove Billy and Ricky to school to say my goodbyes Wednesday. Upon their request, we bumped the Flo Rida as we cruised down Highway 101. In chorus we sang, “she turned around and gave that big booty a smack." I hope they know how much I’ll miss them. I think they do, judging by how embarrassed they were at my farewells.
“Goodbye, I love you, I’ll miss you, please please respond to my emails!”
“Bye,” Billy grins laughing and strolling away from the car.
“I LOVE YOU!” I call with the window rolled down as he stalks into the middle school, barely noticing my public display.
“Bye baby.” I say two minutes later dropping Ricky off at the elementary school.
“Bye.”
I hurried home to finish stuffing the last nylon, bikini bottom, notebook, novel, hard drive into my overstuffed ski bags. Then I almost walked out of the house without my walking shoes or my fall jacket. Where did I get off thinking I could competently move to another country?
I had an emotional goodbye with dad, then mom and I were off to Eugene. We bantered the whole way about technology in Alaska, overuse of curse words in fiction, and what’s an acceptable price for a pair of quality pumps – anything to diffuse the feelings tied to the fact I’m leaving home with no return ticket for the first time.
Remember to wiggle your feet on the plane, don’t drink the alcohol – it’ll dehydrate you faster - DON’T let your purse out of sight, she reminds me.
Too soon it’s time to go through security.
“See you at Christmas in Taiwan, unless I win the lottery tomorrow in which case you can come home,” she says. She always buys a Powerball ticket when it gets about $130 million.
Then it’s “love and bye,” and twenty minutes later I’m watching The grass-patch suburbs of Eugene recede through an airplane window.