These Final Hours

"What's this foreign guy doing here?" I believe the grocery checker said in Greek. 

"He has a house here and has been here for the holidays," I'm relatively confident a co-worker responded.

They both speak English just fine – this just isn't the time of year they expect to need it.

I stopped by Alpha Beta for some olive oil to bring home – I promised the kids. Even second-tier olive oil here is better than the top-tier at home. 

By last night and definitely this morning, it's all the departing odds and ends. Clearing out the fridge, washing and putting away the food storage containers, returning the motor scooter, taking out the garbage and recycling, final laundry, storing the things that stay, packing everything that comes home, grabbing pies from the bakery for lunch on the boat.

Unlike any trip here since 2010, we're leaving on a midday ferry to another island – in this case, Kos. From there, we'll catch a short domestic flight to Athens where we'll overnight and begin the big flights in the early morning. As far as getting ready to go, a midday departure is much more relaxed. In theory it shouldn't be – getting ready to go takes the same amount of time no matter how you cut it. Only in practice, you generally want to maximize your last day, so the packing and winding up end up being an evening affair – which then becomes a little condensed and for me, stressy. Especially when you add in the "don't fall asleep" factor of catching a ferry that departs somewhere between midnight and 1:15 am depending on the day and time of year. 

So, while I never can say goodbye, it's a lot easier with a full morning to get out the door. 

My favorite lady at the Christodolous Bakery whose budding post-divorce relationship is going very well commiserated on how sad it is to leave Patmos – even for her. She feels Summer is a great time to be here, but not as nice as Winter because the quiet of this time of year is more special to her. I told her the great part of Summer for me is the kids getting to enjoy – to which she agreed.

"For kids, doesn't matter how busy the beach is – you get up and you take them and it's wonderful."

So true. 

In fact, the kids are a major shift in the Patmos equation for me right now. I want to get back to them, not just because I miss them – which I always do when I don't have them – but also because I think right now they need me a little more than usual. It will feel good to be with them, which means it will feel less bad to leave. Also, Patmos is wonderful this time of year – but it's the best when they're here to enjoy it with their particular brand of enthusiasm and contentedness. Over the past two summers, Sennen and Ailyn have claimed Patmos as their own. Sennen melted down leaving  - wanting to live here – and Ailyn was concerned with being the only American kids on the island to ensure they have a special niche here. Naturally, that's a doomed project – other American kids come and stay on Patmos – but they are relatively rare and she and Sennen have put their brand out there.

Patmos will be better when the kids are here. In general, life feels its best when I have them.

Michelle has spent her last day largely wrapped up with the cats in the yard. She feels really connected to them – feeding them, playing with them, making sure they have warm blankets at night. Unlike her cats at home, these have more complex social systems and hierarchies with periodic skirmishes for dominance over the yard. At least for this Winter, Gingos has taken charge and seems capable of deciding which cats are allowed to come eat, stay, or not. Gingos rules with an iron paw, although he's rather mild with people. He allows his buddy Ketchup to reside here with him – though the relationship is not without its conflict and Ketchup occasionally gets put in his place. Why some cats are allowed to pull right up to the trough of Friskies and others are not, I can't really say. Michelle is more concerned with this – and wants at least certain cats like Pebbles who is small and has only one good eye to get food. So she gets a little involved in what Sennen calls "cat drama". 

This last day, Gingos and Ketchup have had it good as Michelle has served them leftover chicken we would have otherwise tossed and yesterday they got some old gyro meat and scraps of hamburger patty. They also get tuna water anytime she makes herself tuna.

Unsurprisingly, Michelle's has made friends with Eleini who works at the pharmacy in the back of town and volunteers with a group that takes care of the island's cat population. Michelle has been talking with Eleini about was to keep an eye and help the cats in the yard so they continue to feel cared for. I'm a little less concerned – the cats spend most of their year without us and clearly have an alternate food source and home during that time. There are a number of homes that are "cat friendly" and feed whoever shows up. We don't know where Gingos, Ketchup and many of their pals go exactly, but when we return they seem to figure it out quickly and setup shop on the porch. Whatever happens, I'm sure they'll be fine – they just may miss the table scraps and petting they're currently enjoying.

Such are the ups and downs of life on Patmos.

Now we focus on the long journey home. Patmos to Kos, Kos to Athens, Athens to Munich and for me, Munich to Los Angeles. Michelle goes Munich to Denver, Denver to Los Angeles. While the Athens to Los Angeles part of the journey takes less time and is in some ways easier than my family's (and my) many trips to Southeast Asia – the steps required to reach and leave the island make Patmos one of the longest journeys I take. It just usually gets broken up by the odd overnight and softened by a comfortable ferry. When the kids can sleep in a cabin and eat at the restaurant, the ferry isn't so bad.

All the same, the next day and a half will be dedicated to the journey home – or at least to the other home.

Here we go.