I have made the sleep-deprived trip from Cincinnati to Philadelphia a number of times before but this time Suzie was in the car as we headed East. We passed the Centennial Barn that marks 76.2 miles having passed and we passed Columbus, OH and the dozens of signs for Zanesville. We passed Wheeling, WV and the last Hardee’s before Philadelphia. We passed Harrisburg and Valley Forge and Willow Grove and eventually we passed my mailbox. In a stupor, we walked into my house and re-collapsed in our respective beds for a nap until noon. We rose at 4 PM, I got a haircut that I didn’t much like.   We sat in Chipotle to wait out the rain. Despite having driven across the Gulf states it was only Philadelphia that we encountered a deluge.

We picked up miscellaneous items in Walmart and drove to 18th Street in Philadelphia to drop off all of the non-bed things which went quickly. I drove back home, picked up a bed, a night stand, a table, and some Uncrustables and returned for a second round; this time to assemble flat pack furniture and move a bed. The bed didn’t fit.  Not even, it did not fit.  Not by a long shot. Today was a long day.

Clocks are not always measurers of hours. In war, the clock is blood and iron and in moving it is steps and sweat. Suzie’s new apartment, her apartment, was on the third floor of a building with narrow steps and every foot placement was laced with a little fear that I’d fall.  Suzie’s clock had recently measured days but now ticks in time with opportunity. There is something lost when saying “hello” to someone becomes easier by at least a factor of 10. The power of “this is what I did just to be here” is lost but it is a small loss, one best mourned fleetingly lest it return. I don’t know what happens now as I’m very used to friends becoming more rather than less distant. I look forward to finding out.