One more sunrise

We're one day from leaving our apartment of five years. It's empty. Just sun-faded wood floors and Spackle-spotted walls. It's full of echoes and ghosts.

The move has been going well; we enlisted the help of parents and their larger vehicles to take the bulk of our belongings, and without them, we would be drifting slowly up a creek, paddle packed in some box. There's that last minute stress, however. Not wanting to forget a thing, or miss a payment, or screw this up one last time.

As I've posted, we've solidified some parts of our trip and are truly looking forward to some of the sights along the way. But leaving will be difficult. I don't want to pine about missing Christmas with the family for the first time, or missing birthdays of little kids, or other, sentimental moments, yet I cannot escape these mawkish concerns.

We set off in a few days for the sunset and hope all will turn out well.