It is the 9th of March, 26 days til he leaves. A bright green tent is set up in our small living room. In it are a blown-up mat, a red North Face sleeping bag and a compact light hangs from the hook dangling from its ceiling. Bill has left for the gym. When he returns we will reverse pack together. He has never set up a tent in his 79-year life, until today. He had a nudge from Spirit to set it up with me, just in case. He’d planned to leave it in its wrappings and come home with it still pristinely folded, unused. Apparently. His Higher Power tells him things in the middle of the night. I guess, put up the tent, was last night’s message.
It is all the most very lightweight stuff you can imagine. A 3-pound tent, an even lighter sleeping bag and roll, A bright red rain jacket that our son-in-law Nick showed us rolls up into a pocket. We’ve been gathering. Bill always thinking it will be too much. He will use the backpack we took on our month-long train trip to Canada thirteen years ago, a rare old thing that still looks in perfect condition. A new pannier set that straddles the back tire and holds waterproofed valuables, two insulated side packs that look like lunch boxes and will be lunch boxes and anything boxes, A beautiful North Face pullover I found on heavy discount at the men’s department in Dillard’s. A splurge he wouldn’t have let me make had he been there. Since I bought it, he rarely takes it off and may never take off the whole time he’s gone. It will be summer, so maybe during the day.
He got his second vaccine this afternoon. So that’s done. Check.
He says every so often, I’m ready to go now.
