Tuesday - written after the fact
Apr. 23rd, 2002 12:00 pmOn Tuesday, I tied up loose ends at university. Delivering forms, returning keys, and all those sorts of errands I had not been able to accomplish the day before. Dad had lunch in town and left me to my own devices for the morning. Though we had left Moncton after 10, I managed to get everything done by 11:15 or so.
It was quite the reversal of our usual roles when I woke Imogen up by knocking on her apartment door at 11:30, carrying my (Tim Horton's) lunch. Guilt descended upon me when I beheld her haggard appearance, slouching in the darkness inside her apartment. But she realized I had come to say goodbye, and so admitted me with her usual good (although obviously very tired) humour; I apologized profusely for about two minutes straight, and obligingly refrained from turning on the lights. She promptly got back into bed, but stayed awake, and I sat on the floor. We talked for about fifty minutes, mostly resuming Sunday's theological discussion. When it came time to leave, she gave me a good long hug. I wished her well at graduate school, though as I said I'm sure she'll do wonderfully. I bid her sweet dreams, of course, and I'm sure she returned to much-needed sleep. Her informal, "see you later!" probably helped me to stay composed enough to avoid breaking down as I left and walked down the hall.
Do I even need to say that I'm going to miss her unbearably? I didn't think so. (I've been dreading it all year.)
The dentist had demanded I see him again at 12:30 to adjust the bite plate; it turned out that he did nothing but check to see how it looked. I met up with Dad shortly thereafter, and following a short visit with my (scatterbrained, absolutely nuts) flute professor to pick up a CD, we headed for Fredericton.
It was quite the reversal of our usual roles when I woke Imogen up by knocking on her apartment door at 11:30, carrying my (Tim Horton's) lunch. Guilt descended upon me when I beheld her haggard appearance, slouching in the darkness inside her apartment. But she realized I had come to say goodbye, and so admitted me with her usual good (although obviously very tired) humour; I apologized profusely for about two minutes straight, and obligingly refrained from turning on the lights. She promptly got back into bed, but stayed awake, and I sat on the floor. We talked for about fifty minutes, mostly resuming Sunday's theological discussion. When it came time to leave, she gave me a good long hug. I wished her well at graduate school, though as I said I'm sure she'll do wonderfully. I bid her sweet dreams, of course, and I'm sure she returned to much-needed sleep. Her informal, "see you later!" probably helped me to stay composed enough to avoid breaking down as I left and walked down the hall.
Do I even need to say that I'm going to miss her unbearably? I didn't think so. (I've been dreading it all year.)
The dentist had demanded I see him again at 12:30 to adjust the bite plate; it turned out that he did nothing but check to see how it looked. I met up with Dad shortly thereafter, and following a short visit with my (scatterbrained, absolutely nuts) flute professor to pick up a CD, we headed for Fredericton.