Dust Motes and Old Rope

I really haven't kept up with this very well.  It will get better, I promise. On our drive out there, to California that is, I will (hopefully) be writing everyday.
Today was an interesting, bittersweet, sad day.
It started early.  5 o'clock came with the chirping of the birds and the morning sunshine and my mom gently shaking me awake and telling me it was time to get up. My dad flew back out to California today, And next tuesday or wednesday we are going to drive out there, taking route 66.
His flight went out at ridiculously-early-o-clock this morning and as I watched him get on to the plane, it was the hardest of all the times. You see, My dad has been living out there for the past ten months and the hardest times were the first and the last. I thought the last would be the easiest, Yes! We're leaving soon! I'm so outta here! Peace out homies!
But as he went through security I pictured myself walking right through that metal detector, unable to turn around and run back into the arms of my best friends. I'm going to miss them so much.  If you guys are out there reading this (you know who you are) I just want to tell you that I love you very much and I will miss you terribly.
And as I stood there at the airport, at 7 o'clock on a random thursday morning in June, I had to try so hard to hold back the tears because I knew if I didn't I would have broken down then and there into a sobbing, tear-streaked mess on the unforgiving linoleum floor.
When we got home hours later, after trying to find some gratification on the racks of Goodwill, (mission successful, by the way) we were all way too exhausted to do anything but disappear into our own minds and sleep.
Around 2 o'clock we finally summoned enough energy to head up to the upper floor of the barn and tackle the biggest task left here.  We sorted and shoved and lifted and moved and grunted and sweated and breathed in the dust, but by 7 o'clock we were all satisfied with our work.  In a mere 5 hours us three girls, Turino girls, mind you, had turned the 3,000 sq. ft (approximately) upper floor of the barn into a sorted room ready to be moved and rented by someone who's middle name I don't even know.
And with the barn all cleaned out like that, as I perched in the rafters and surveyed the scene, I wondered why we hadn't done this sooner.
The old rope from the shipyards that my dad used to work at hung from a rafter and looked sentimentally picturesque.
Take time to make something how you've always wanted it.  Don't just add it to the list of things to do, don't say you'll do it tomorrow. Sometimes, tomorrow never comes, but there are times when it comes far too quickly.