The Final Days

May 30

On what was Brett and my last day at the house, the weather turned grey and drizzly, so the whole family mostly stayed in. There were plans for the day I think, but everyone wound up distracted and deterred by rain. Brett and Don spent the morning challenging each other about politics and even the food system. Ellen came in a few times, heard the conversation, and then turned around and left. "We're still talking about this?" They would discuss, agree, disagree, discuss some more. It was all very polite. I mostly sat taking it in - a gracious provocation of two of my favorite minds.

Brett and I ran out to pick up lunch for everyone, and came home to a Shanghai game at the dining room table. While we ate and played, a repair man came in to fix some shutters. Despite his best efforts, Dad never really won him over. In this case we can blame it on a language barrier. We carried on with our game and cheered for the repairman after a job well done. 

I have the very distinct feeling of dread that I used to have on Sunday nights before school the next day. Haven't felt this sensation in more than 15 years. I've found it very interesting to revisit - it's still a bad feeling - but less awful since there isn't actually school tomorrow. 

Around 5:00, Brett started working on Chicken Cacciatore for dinner, with Dad and me as sous chefs. We all navigated around each other in the tiny kitchen and washed the knives and cutting boards as we went. (There was only one good knife.) 
We had the Last Supper out on the porch. What a colorful feast! I keep writing it, but our home-cooked meals are the best things we've been eating. (Except for the focaccia bread. How do they make that so fluffy and wonderful?)

After dinner, the guys went all the way up the tower to play pool while the girls sat at the kitchen table and discussed:

-new job (mine)

-new baby (Will and Katie's)

-pets (all)

-recipes (Laurie's)

We eventually went to bed and that's when I had Big Lue's Big Italian Panic Attack. I knew I was anxious about flying home (on account of the in-flight panic attack I had on the way over) but geewillies. Get a hold of yourself! I'm quite accustomed to my own brand of panic attack. They barely worry me because I know their schtick. This was all brand new and much more dramatic than a Lowcountry Panic Attack, so it really gave me a fright. Brett did everything he could and then finally knocked me out with one of Dad's Ambien pills...

May 31

....but I woke up the next day right where I left off.  Brett and I were headed to Switzerland and there was no way I was going to make it. I'll zoom ahead and tell you that I tried to go downstairs like nothing was wrong but the family wasn't fooled and they flocked around me like seagulls and basket of fries. It was embarrassing and sweet. I'll zoom ahead again to tell you that I was given a Xanax and 10 minutes later the world was my oyster. 

Boy, what a drug! Who knew! Once I felt better, my family wandered off for breakfast but Papa Don sat with me awhile and distracted me with his musings. Those Hons always know how to patch me up. Brett and I had a train to catch, so we didn't stick around too much longer.

We were sent off to the train statin with our suitcases and a handful of Xanax to get me back home again. We had been very excited to take the Bernina Express through the Alps over to Zurich. During my panic meltdown I did care one bit about this. "Forget it! I have bigger problems" But now that I was a little high, the party was back on. 

We rode through the snowy mountains in a glass tube and it was beautiful. We sat next to a Dutch man named Tom. He was very quiet and kept to himself unless Brett asked him a question. Every time Brett said, "So Tom..." Tom would go very still and only his eyes would look over at Brett. I almost told Brett to leave him alone, except that once he started talking, Tom seemed happy about giving an answer.

Meanwhile I maintained a delighted zen state and wondered if this is how most people feel everyday - just completely unburdened by anything. "Is this what you feel like?" I asked Brett. He shrugged in a way that I would describe as "affirmatively." It was chilly in the train and I dozed off a few times. The last hour or so really dragged on and on - slow moving train.

Here I am on drugs!

We made it into Zurich around 8pm and hustled through the city to our AirBnb. It was cold and raining but we both immediately loved it. So charming. One half city. One half cobbled, European town. After checking into the AirBnb (with ceilings approximately three inches above Brett's head) we set out in search of dinner. Everywhere was either closed or packed, so we picked up Thai food, put on a movie, and ate noodles in bed. 

June 1

I began my day with half a Xanax...

Turns out my body was very anxious about flying home. I stayed lightly doped up for two days or else the dread would take over. Very embarrassing. Brett and I took on a parent/child relationship that I hope never happens again. He did a great job alternating between coddling me and shoving me out into the world so didn't miss anything. We visited the Swiss museum, walked the river front, visited a few book stores, and Brett ate his way though town. I was too queasy to eat. 

Around 7:00, the parents arrived in town for their flights home tomorrow. We saw Don and Lollie walking down the street and ran up to them all excited, but it really surprised Lollie. She looked SO relived when se realized it was me. I'm quite certain I heard Brett say, "give me all your money!" as he hastily approached Don.  

We met Mom and Dad is a British pub, of all places and had our actual last meal together. During this dinner they told me that Ellen stayed up late to chat last night AND played a few rounds of Shanghai. Can you believe that! Also, they had more gelato.

We had to be out of the pub by 8:30 - it was the European Champions League that night (big deal soccer game) - so we gobbled our grub and said our actual goodbyes. 

On our walk back, we noticed a handful of pubs just loaded with people watching the game. Brett convinced me to watch the first half, so we squeezed in amongst the rowdy revelers and joined in with the universal fun of rooting for something. It was so packed you didn't really have to try to stand up. People were shoved in so close you had no choice but to be upright. I thought of a train ride early on in our trip that was equally as crowded and I was just furious about it. Somehow, in this context, it was fun. Everyone screamed and cheered at the same time. Beer glasses were clinked together, people had screaming conversations in foreign tongues. I'm not sure how, but I had a good time. 

June 2

Took a train to Frankfurt for our flight home. Got in around 4:00. Brett did a workout the hotel gym.

Went down to the hotel restaurant for dinner - they asked if we had a reservation... at the airport hotel. Who has reservations at airport hotels? We found this most amusing but had it hide it. 

We mostly sat in a happy daze, though mine may have been Xanax fueled. The American couple at the next table had the following conversation:

"Well, Don and Chris will be meeting us there. I think Laura is coming later on."

"Well what about Lee?"

"Lee is coming with John and Julie."

"Chris and Laura sure had a good time at the house last summer."

"They did, ever since Don moved back home I see so much more of them."

This carried on a good while. I thought it was a prank of some kind. I looked around for hidden cameras. They just needed a Nancy and an Ellen and I'd have had to interject. If it wasn't for John and Julie...

By the end of the meal, I surmised that Don, Chris, and Laura were the names of the couple's children. Julie and John recently got married. I never worked out who Lee was, but it all made me smile any way. 

Early bedtime. Up at 4am for the trek home.