Time collapsing

I feel time growing short now. I leave for Antarctica in less than three weeks.  Anything that comes up must be done in these three weeks. Things that would have been done four and five weeks from now are also crowding into this time. I will inventory my gear, spreading it out on the garage floor like a yard sale.  I will host Thanksgiving. Over the next three weeks I will consume fifteen salads and do ten loads of laundry.  My son, Chase will turn 17.  Because I have a phobia about mail I will go to my mailbox only three times. I will pack sixty pounds of water up 8,400 vertical feet of trail. The days will grow shorter, the workouts longer. I will start to miss my loved ones, even as they sit across from me at the kitchen table. I will load Christmas music on the I-pod I intend to take along. I will ask myself why I am doing this as the inconvenience of my departure weighs heavy. There will be no answer, as there never has been. I will take my Father to a Doctor's appointment. I will clear the leaves from the deck. I will work long days at my job to meet as many commitments as possible. I will spend time allaying my Mother's fears. I will wear a red flannel shirt. I will carry a dog biscuit in my pocket in case that aggressive Labrador comes out to bark at me on walks. I will consume a half gallon of half and half. I will finish burning down a holiday scented candle I lite each morning and evening. I will play a video game with my son. (It is called Nazi Zombies. Technically, Zombies are already dead so we aren't hurting anyone. And Nazi's? C'mon. If there was ever justification for heating up a 50 caliber machine gun Nazi Zombies are it!)I will deep fry a turkey. I will listen the George Winston's Autumn album. I will drag a tire-laden piece of plywood around on the streets of my neighborhood. I will steal away with my love, Lin,  to Lopez Island. I will sell my drum set. I will mumble to myself without thinking about who might be watching.  I will Skype with my son, Trevor, in Chicago.  I will purchase an audio book about Sir Ernest Shackleton. I will scrutinize the financial markets. I will scrutinize the details of the climb. I will scrutinize the lines beneath my eyes. I will become irritable as I realize I can't possible complete everything before leaving. Then, as I square up to say Goodbye, it will all fall away.