Today is truly my last day of residence in California unless the future holds something I don’t know about (certainly possible). I was born here and have lived here for most of my life with time off for a junior year in Ireland and grad school in North Carolina. As I took BART to the San Francisco Airport this morning we passed stops near where I used to live (24th St = Guerrero St), where a past love lives (Glen Park), where I went to therapy (Glen Park). As I rode the train, memories washed over me.

There was blue sky this morning as well as fog rolling over the hills: I could see both from the window.

I spent last night at a friend’s house on Eighth St. in Berkeley. D has a lovely house with hardwood floors, a deep bathtub, octagonal floor tiles, a friendly dog who was surprised to have a visitor. I slept on a loveseat and then on a couch when I wanted to stretch my legs.

D is a fine hostess, Midwestern style. She went out and bought a new set of sheets for me to sleep on, if only for one night, and broke out some new towels in the bargain. She fed me coffee and oatmeal this morning (She had offered a trip to Lavender Bakery for pastries, but when I am traveling I like to start with healthy food, knowing that I will end up grabbing pick-up meals and eating crap sooner or later).

I lucked out at SFO though. My gate was close to Drake’s Brewing Co. I read the menu, which featured both Caesar salad and pizza, two of my favorite things. Which to get? I ordered pepperoni and chile pizza and asked for a side salad, which was a Caesar. Yes! Everything was delicious and I saved enough pizza for my next meal. It wasn’t crowded and there was plenty of space for my bags and cane at my feet.

I don’t usually travel with a cane. I have cerebral palsy and mostly walk unassisted, but I brought a cane in case my six weeks of travels include any challenging walks or hikes — I am going several places I have never been before. The cane also helps to balance extra luggage: I tried to travel light and got rid of everything I reasonably could, but I travel with a large backpack and a small day pack and there is no great way to carry that combination since you can’t put both of them your back (my preferred mode of portage). Before I left D’s this morning I jettisoned a couple pounds of coffee beans, filters, a coffee grinder, a jar of honey, a singleton sock and a Leonard Cohen T-shirt. I love Leonard, but I don’t need souvenirs on this trip.

I’m spending my last resident hours in California at LAX waiting for my flight to Dublin, Ireland. From thence I go to Leeds on Monday morning. My afternoon has been filled with jitney rides, currency exchanges and gate changes, plus online chatting with my good friend Neola, one of my biggest supports through the past year.

I am doing my best to put myself on Irish/British time: because it is now the middle of the night in those countries I will try to put myself to sleep as soon as I board the plane. I have ear plugs and a sleep mask, which should help. It will be mask on mask since the lower part of my face is masked against Covid and the upper will be masked against light. I should probably have someone take a photo of this unusual sight since I will look like some kind of alien, or maybe Bug Rogers.

The gate is getting really crowded and the hallway, too, with the most people I have seen all day. Almost no one is wearing a mask — I estimate 1-2%, which makes me more determined to keep mine on. I had a barrier of empty disabled seats for awhile, but now I am seated next to a small child and an Irish woman with a cane. Who is from Limerick, where I am going in two and a half weeks. Small world.