If you had asked me yesterday morning how my weekend was going, I would probably have answered "bittersweet." I spent my shabbos with Eli and Miryam, and their families and friends, for the last time in this country. Motzei shabbos (or Saturday night, if you're DovBear), we had the send-off party. Today they're off to the HL, where they will find a home that includes a guest bedroom, which I plan to take full advantage of in 4 months or so. It's always hard to say goodbye, but it makes it easier when 1) they're going to Israel and 2) you're going to join them soon.
Sunday morning, or afternoon by the time I woke up, was sunny and beautiful. I met up with Elizabeth and wandered around the neighborhood. Then we went back to her place, and I saw The Incedibles for the first time. Fantastic movie, btw.
Then the phone rang. Liz's father called, and my trip to Pittsburgh has been canceled. Liz can no longer speak much, and sleeps 18 hours a day. She isn't up to seeing people, and doesn't want to see people this way. Since she cannot speak on the phone, signs indicate that I will never hear her voice again. I may never see her again. I was prepared to face that next weekend, and I've realized just how much I was clinging to the idea of being able to say goodbye in person. I'd fooled myself into thinking that it couldn't deteriorate this much in three short weeks.
So after the movie, I went back home, and canceled my flight reservation. Then I went out for dinner, deciding that it was better to keep my evening plans and get out of the house than sit at home and cry. Two hours later, I was back home. Dinner was fine, but I was drained. I watched a movie with my father, and then went to bed.
Now it's Monday. I'm still drained. I can't say anymore that the weekend was bittersweet. I don't even know what word would fit.
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