The Last Day

The Last Day

I think that when you have space before or after something there’s still the possibility of more.  But the last day is – by necessity – finite.  We wanted to make the most of it.  And in true Claridge style we planned way too much.

We wanted to eat at Pella’s.  It had become such a staple for our family that it felt wrong not to have it one last time.  But it didn’t open until 9:00.  And we had returned most of our library rentals, but we had held onto a couple of things for the last night, mostly so Amy could lose at one final board game.  So we had a couple of things to drop off.  And the library didn’t open until 10:00.  Then our train left from the rautatiesema at 11:00.  And we’d have to tram there.  So the windows were tight.

We were pretty much all packed and ready to go before leaving for Pella’s.  That was more of an effort than it sounds like.  And surprisingly emotional.  Even the mundane disposal of spices, soaps, and condiments felt existential – like we were erasing the evidence of our existence here in Tampere.

We rode the tram and were at Pella’s when it opened.  Which was good, because it was surprisingly busy there.  It was a Saturday, and we think that a lot of people were there for brunch.  But we were first ones in the door and only had pastries and coffee, so it went fast.  

Too fast maybe.  I’d like to tell you that we all had a nice breakfast reminiscing, but I think we were mostly all a little sad.

We had some time after so we all went to frog park for one last play.  

We decided to let the kids play a little longer, and I’d go back to drop off the library stuff alone.  I jogged back to the tram only to watch it pull away without me.  So I ran all the way back to the apartment, and then grabbed the stuff and ran to the library.  On my way I saw Amy and the kids riding the tram.  It’s amazing how beautiful your family looks when they are sitting in seats and not sweating and carrying books and board games.

All that running had gotten me to the library about ten minutes too early, so I waited along with an anxiety-provoking large crowd for them to open the door.  Then – like an ugly American --  I raced in front of people to be first in line to drop off.  On the way out there was a table with post it notes and a pen.  I hadn’t seen it there ever before.  I had to run again to get back to the apartment, but before I left I grabbed a post-it and scrawled:  “Hei hei ja Kiitos Suomi!  - The Claridges.”  Goodbye and thank you Finland.  It was a bizarre feeling.  Our two months in Finland had meant so much to our family, and left an indelible mark on our souls.  And in less than an hour, that ten cent post-it would be the only trace left of our time there.

Another jog back to our apartment and we collected the rest of our things.  

Amy and I had the rest of my Finnish whisky on the balcony.  

Then we took our bags and headed for the tram.  We got on and travelled the short route to rautatiesema in silence.  There was an older woman who kept smiling at our family.  I don’t know why but that made me feel especially good.

We got to the station and found our train.  We boarded the playcar, like we had a half dozen times before.  

We took our seats.  In short order the train pulled out of the station.  And we watched the best two months of our lives slip away over the horizon.

Hei Hei.