My "last hoorah" in Starkville culminated in the form of a splendid Going Away Party two nights ago at my second home (a.k.a. Drew and Karen's). We had fried chicken, barbecue, sweet tea, bourbon and some gooey, cheesy bacon dip stuff that was so good I threatened to slather it all over myself. Mmmm...Southern cooking is as close as we can get to heaven on earth. I'm certain of it.
There are few things better than being surrounded by friends who love you. It's quite humbling, actually. I certainly did nothing to deserve such an amazing display of affection, but I'm glad they saw fit to do what they did. I won't ever forget it. I even got a wish book in which all of my favorite people wrote memories, advice and just plain 'ole nice things for me to take along on my journey. I've been told I can't read it until I'm on the road. One dear heart even made up his own words for me. Now that's what I call friendship.
But it wasn't until last night that the waterworks started. And so unexpectedly, might I add. I was "that girl" who was crying at the bar. How humiliating. No, it probably didn't help that I had consumed a good bit of bubbly before we arrived. Or that I was aware that it was my last weekend to hang out at The Tavern. But what put the final nail in the coffin was when my dear Jason Jones (the same creature who made up words in aforementioned wish book) stepped up to the mic and played those unmistakable opening notes of "In My Life." Talk about losing it. I couldn't stop the tears. And maybe I didn't want to.
Next weekend my sister will get married and the final goodbyes will be spoken. But that's really only the beginning. Because 2,000 miles in a Honda Accord is bound to make for some of the best stories I've ever heard, let alone experienced for myself. I can't wait.
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