I am facing our apt., having just gotten out of a taxi.
I had been running around the office, tying up loose ends and literally "checking out" -- getting all the paperwork signed to depart.
A couple hours later I was standing near this same spot, tears streaming as I said goodbye to our portero, who had become a friend. He said in his Argentine accent, "Ay, May-gahn, no shooor-ehs" (Megan, don't cry). I should have taken a photo of us with him before we left, but you know how those moments pass and then you're sitting in the back of a van, bumping along through the city traffic and you're completely over the moment of crying and are looking forward to all that is ahead of you, trying not to think too much about what you're leaving behind.
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