Chapter Eighteen

Packing up a life is hard work.  I had piles for donation, piles for storage and piles to send to Egypt.  Most of the things going to Egypt were weapons.  Now, I understood the need for a private plane!  How in the world did one ship countless weapons commercially without bringing in law enforcement and their myriad of questions. 

I made one last trip to the gym where I had spent my youth.  I wanted to give my old leotards away to someone who could use them.  Walking in the front door brought waves of memories.  Countless hours of my younger years had been in this building. Soaring high days when everything just clicked, lonely low days where nothing I could do was right.  Pulled muscles and overworked joints could not compare with the feeling of perfection when you hit a spectacular routine and stuck the landing.  I saw Coach, a little olde