Day of Departure

There’s no sadder morning than the last day of a vacation or trip. It’s part of the reason I book a morning return flight or train trip, or trudge to my car before the sun rises – the quicker it’s over, the better. Sometimes I’ve even left Boston at midnight, just to avoid the next sorrowful morning.

I know it’s just time games and mental tricks, but I don’t like saying good-bye, and that last day always seems like one prolonged farewell until I get home again. Who wants that feeling to last?

Yet over the years I’ve learned to slow down a bit, take in those final morning moments, even delay a departure to make the most of the day. It still weighs inevitably on my mind, but I’m coming around to a more leisurely approach to leaving. Sometimes, those last precious moments are the most memorable part of a trip – an early brunch, a morning stroll along the beach, or just another round of the snooze button – made more-so by their suddenly-fleeting nature.

Some people, myself often included, are happiest when in-flux, when we’re going or coming, en route and on the way. For us, the journey is the destination, and every minute spent waiting for a flight or dozing on the train is one of blessed relief from the usual drudgery of non-motion .

If I had to travel for my job, I might feel differently.

For now, the thrill remains, and the last morning will be met with both sadness and a smile.

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