I knew I would never second guess my decision to leave, and I also knew I would never come back. I had another chance to begin again. The circumstances were a bit unusual, but I was up for the challenge.
Everyone in the over fifty-five community in Florida, where I had lived for the past five years, would think I had lost my mind and they could be right.
I was two days away from starting a new life. The certified letter that had started the whole chain of events was safely tucked away in the only suitcase I had packed. I was driving to my destination, but I would be traveling light. I had no idea what I would be needing in Massachusetts.
The next two days flew by. I had lunch with friends and made sure I gave each of them an extra hug. They wouldn’t know I was gone until they found the note on my kitchen table. It was my hope they would never know where I was or why I left. They would probably assume it was because the golf pro recently broke it to me that a good round of golf was not in my future. It was imperative that I didn’t bring any part of my old life with me. I gladly left my golf clubs behind along with the furniture I was able to sell with the house. All was handled without anyone knowing… which was quite remarkable.
I left before dawn. I had looked at the map and photographs included in the envelope dozens of times and baring any bad weather, I would arrive by the evening of the third day. What would I find there? I was anxious and excited, but there was no fear.
The drive was relaxing and uneventful. It was almost dusk when I turned onto the road that would take me to my new home. It was three days before Thanksgiving.
I fell in love with the house the minute I saw it. Darkness was closing in, but I could hear the sounds of the Cape not far away. Best I go in while I could find my way around.
I was bone tired.