Tomorrow is our last day here. Our flight departs at 9pm. It's all done. The packers have come and gone. The container was loaded and has joined the innumerable masses over at the Fremantle harbour. The cleaners, well, cleaned. Keys were returned. Kids went to school, were picked up from school. The afternoon progressed into dinnertime and bedtime (twice).
I attended the annual fundraiser/silent auction at the school tonight.
Now, it's late and I'm very tired and I need to go to bed and...I'm feeling very strange.
My girls have two pick-up times from school; the younger one at 1:30 and the older one at 3pm. Two of my mom friends from the class and I often pass that random hour and a half together with our wee ones. Today, we spent that time at the library. As we parted at the door, we did the usual "See you tomorrow!" and one of them said, "Well, maybe if I catch you at drop-off. I'm not picking up, so the morning is it." And with that, I got the first jab of the fact that I'm really leaving. If I don't see her tomorrow at drop-off, a good friend passing in the carpark as we do every school day and have done for three years (!), I won't see her anymore. It knocked the wind out of me a little, just the thought.
And now here I am, way past my bedtime and I really am quite thoroughly tired...but I can't help but be aware that this is my last night in this place that has been our home for as long as the girls can remember. Tomorrow, I don't know if I'll be bawling so the girls can see it's okay to be bawling or if I'll be stoic so they don't feel worried this move is a bad thing. I suppose I'll just have to take it as it comes.
As for tonight, I'd better go to bed.
Wish me luck!