After a day of packing the truck with help from our awesome friends, we were still cleaning and packing remaining details into wherever they would fit. Finally at 10:30pm we left the apartment to take a farewell walk down to Seapoint Beach. The air was frigid with a wind picking up, the sky clear with leftovers from a full moon a few days before. There were no cars on the road to the beach, and the night was so quiet that we could appreciate the whisper of wind through the pines and the rattle of a few remaining oak leaves still clinging to the trees.
At Seapoint the sea was so calm, with the most gentle, tiny waves lapping the shore. We sat on a driftwood tree trunk and looked out at the majesty of the place and the moment we were sharing.
Back at the house we realized our sleeping bags were at least half way back into the packed moving truck. I was able to hook mine with a gardening implement. In the garage below our apartment I found an old comforter and a rag sheet that had been in the back of my van for covering precious cargo. With these we made our bed on the floor, on the mattress, surrounded by the empty apartment where we had lived for 4 years, and Eli had lived for five years before that.