Thursday, August 1, 2013

The Last Supper

With all the continuing work here, it's hard to get a decent amount of quality time with family. My sister and her kids, who've been in Haven since North Jackson was hit during the war, have been virtual strangers. Or I should say, we've been strangers. Even before I was injured I didn't take the time to visit her as much as I should.

The same goes for my brother. We see each other often but it's usually related to work. Been a long while since we were able to sit down to a meal or have drinks and just bullshit. His wife and kids stay busy as well. Been ages since I've seen them.

Though I don't know the timeline, I'll be leaving soon. Because they're awesome human beings, my friends and family have worked out their schedules to give us one last night together as a group. As I write this there are people cooking out on my deck, others setting up my kitchen table for a buffet. My house teems with people I love and respect, and in short order I'll be out there with them.

Given the amount of work ahead for Haven, this is almost definitely the last time we'll be together as a group. It's a minor miracle they managed it, to be frank. Everyone rushes to make this place whole and strong, to prepare it for the day-to-day struggles we know will come. I'm humbled and overjoyed. I know it isn't just about me; most of these folks are friends or family in their own right. We're a group, after all. But they're making today happen so I won't have the regret trailing behind me as we move to our new home, the sadness of not having one last hurrah.

The fun is supposed to begin at five, which is in three minutes. I'd love to sit and write something longer, something more descriptive of the world around me and the dangers we face, but after so many years, well...

I think you get the message.

So instead of jotting down my random thoughts, I'm going to post this and close the laptop. For a while I'm going to eat good food, drink good drinks, and spend my time with good people as we toast absent friends and bright tomorrows.

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