Yesterday I got back from a whirlwind 3 night trip to Mexico City where I FINALLY closed on the sale of my weekend house.  I should be feeling relieved that, after almost of year of delays and 17 changed plane tickets due to an idiot notary, it is finally done.  But I am still clenched, waiting for another shoe to fall.  Mexico City was sunny and weirdly hot and super contaminated with a splash of ash from an active volcano.  In other words, I already have a small sinus infection.

The first day there I walked miles getting errands done, paying bills, and seeing my dearest friend for lunch.  I was feeling super sad about Mexico City, nostalgic, a little bummed out that I was selling my apartment of 17 years, where I was comfortable and happy and had a very interesting life.  I second guessed my carefully considered plan of leaving and even told my sister I should reconsider, maybe stay there part time.

The second day was the closing, which miraculously happened, although it took hours of very little activity and there is still paperwork they will need to get to me so that I can file with the IRS.  My lawyer took me home, where I had lunch with he and his Mom (who is an old friend), and then some of my book club ladies came over for a visit.  But I was crashing hard and had to duck out earlier than I would have liked.

My last night was a feverish painful mess where I slept little and had to break in to the emergency stash of Cipro.  I had to rearrange 3 checked bags full of the final detritus of things the movers wouldn't pack but that I did not want to throw away or donate.  When my alarm sounded yesterday morning, I wasn't sure how I would get through the day.  Angels.  That's the only explanation for how flawlessly and smoothly yesterday's trip went.  Chaos all around me, and me floating through quickly and painlessly.  I've travelled enough to know that it was a once-in-a-lifetime achievement to have everything go your way in an international trip.  Bonus: my suitcases weren't opened and nothing was pilfered.  Which is a blessing because I had to check a lot of luxury items that wouldn't fit in my carry on.  Angels.

My lesson from it all was my battery ain't what it used to be, to put it mildly.  Also, that Mexico wants to kill me, but that's a whole different post.  Despite the fact that I've been living and training like an amateur athlete the last 3 months, I won't ever be the profoundly strong, resistant, energizer bunny I once was.  In fact, I would bet that I won't ever be in better shape than I am now, so I need to continue to adjust my planning to account for the fact that I have the immune system of a sickly 3 year old, stuck with the brain of someone who blithely traveled the world for years on little sleep and still lived balls out on her downtime.

But instead of focusing on my ridiculous frailty and all the loss that represents, what I prefer to highlight is all the incredible people who were checking in on me, helping me in Mexico, calling me to make sure I got home, my 'lawyer' (who is much more a friend) staying by my side all day, storing my shit and driving me around.  As well as all the invisible forces that upheld me through this too-quick extra stressful trip.  While the cash from the sale is nice to have in my bank account, the real wealth is that web of love and caring that enables me to pretend, for however long I care to, that I can still move about the world somewhat like the old me.