Wishing for Denver but Getting on the Road with Smokey

Today, I find myself wistfully thinking how nice it would be to have a bit of Denver in me. John Denver, that is. "All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go...." I just can't quite imagine that. I have a few more days til that has to be the case, but no matter when I get packed, fully ready is something I don't think I will be. In one sense I'm very ready to go: Eight years is a long time to be away from home, especially when your heart knows it's away from home, and misses home and the familiar on a daily basis. But in another sense, I'm not ready. I don't want to say goodbye to the dear friends I've made in those eight years. With Smokey Robinson, I find myself asking, "What's so good about goodbye?" The question is a very real one, one which I will consider as I continue to pack up my belongings in anticipation of the long journey ahead of me.