Leaving

Not everything needs to be melodramatic: Yoko and the girls got on a plane to Japan early this morning without any tears or clinging. They rode up an escalator to security and were gone and I was left, metaphorically, alone.

I say metaphorically because Auntie and Uncle appeared, as they do, to save us last night. Their car pulled up at 8:30: Come, we take you to the airport. I feigned trying to say no, but was immediately and deeply thankful. Thank you. We all piled into their car as we have again and again and again in this country and they took us. Auntie held Mia as Yoko checked in. Uncle parked the car. It's okay; no problem.

So they drove me back home, Yoko texted that she was at the gate, and then on the plane, and then they were gone. I went to sleep and woke to the alarm clock at 6:30. The alarm clock: I couldn't believe it. The terrace house on Taman Sri Minang takes on new meaning — children's boots at the door, waiting for them to return. Perhaps in all this quietness, the truth will seep into me.