Pencils down

We are now officially out of time. There's nothing more that we can do to prepare and, if there was, we're too worn out from non-stop packing, planning, and storing to do it.

This is the end.

I'd like to say that we feel some great relief at having crammed it all in on time and in style. I'd like to say that we're both brimming with excitement and anticipation and adventure. I'd like to spout some cliché about the rush of emotions we're feeling at this great shift in the balance of our lives, but that wouldn't be honest.

In truth, we both just feel very, very tired.

Month after month of seemingly endless farewells have left both of us feeling more than just a little used up. And now that it's come time to say goodbye to the people closest to us -- the ones to whom we owe the most -- we don't have the emotions left to muster a half-decent "thank you".

So if we've seemed a little cold and distracted over the past couple of weeks; if we neglected to thank you properly (or even at all); if we appeared to be more eager to leave than is generally polite, blame the stress of an exceedingly drawn-out farewell.

In truth, we love you all and appreciate every little thing you've done for us. We've received so much of your help and kindness and care that there was just not enough time in these pitiful few months to adequately thank even a tiny fraction of you.

But thank you just the same, from the very bottom of our hearts. We love you, and we'll be thinking of you fondly (especially you, Mama and Papa).