My best friend emigrated to New Zealand. It was a long process spread over months of paper work. In the final weeks of preparing to leave, I spent every possible minute with her. Even if that meant sitting on a blow up mattress in the living room, watching her sort which items to keep and which to sell. Just being near her was important, because I didn’t know when I’d be near her again. Her fiance, who had secured a job, flew over a month or two before her. We had a moment to catch our breath in between the chaos of trying to pack their life into a box, sell the house and make sure Ben’s vet papers were ready too.
Over the years, we had a ritual of taking a drive up to Nottingham Road and meandering our way back down through the Midlands. So this trip was quite possibly, the last meander. Of course we had to pull over for some cheesy Meander poses. We went to Blueberry Hill, our firm favorite in the Midlands and both had the exact same meal! You can’t do Blueberry, without having the blueberry cheese cake! We then took a slow drive down the road that I could swear we’ve driving down a thousand times together. Neither of us wanting to acknowledge that this was quite possibly the last time.
Even though I miss her terribly, I know deep down that this was not the last adventure we shared and that I’ll see her again. When that time comes, I also know that it won’t feel like we’ve been apart at all.
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