Dear G-d. Please let these suitcases be under 50 pounds.

Look. I honestly admit that I over pack. I couldn't lie about that. One trip with me and you would see right though my ruse. But in the past few years I have tried to be more strategic, packing reusable outfits, less shoes, and when I visit my 'sisters' in NYC, packing little and letting them dress me.But seriously, I am going to Israel for FIVE MONTHS! This is no ordinary, stay in a hotel, relax by the pool vacation! There are needs here! Toiletries, bedding, towels, okay I know I can buy them all in Israel but why spend the money if I have some I can just leave there! And clothes... okay, I need casual clothes for school, dressy clothes for shabbat and chaggim (holidays). I need summer clothes for when I get there and winter/chilly/rainy clothes for a few months in.Basically, the schizophrenia overwhelmed me and there I was with about 6 suitcases worth of clothes, shoes, and accoutrement that had to fit into two bags, under 50 pounds. After much hemming and hawing, we made it! I officially have two checked big suitcases hovering at 50 pounds, one smaller rolling carry on bag, and a backpack carry on... and a pillow. What if they stop me and tell me I can't have the extra carry on. I mean you are allowed one carry on, one personal item. Does my pillow push me over!? What if any suitcase is too big or too heavy?! Everything is carefully packed to the breaking point!At some point it is just out of my hands and into G-d's... and Delta's. My dear brother came with me to JFK... maybe because he wanted to say goodbye but more likely to see if they would actually take the bags."Miss, please come forward." "Yes, uhm, here is my passport and ticket." "Great, put the bag on the scale." (Now running through my head... all excuse to use and tears lined up if it is over the weight...) "Great, next bag." "Wait WHAT!?"I look at the scale. Big Green Bag (heretofore known as BGB) = 50 lbs. ON. THE. DOT.Big Purple Bag (BPB) goes up = 47 lbs.What flashes in my mind? I could have totally packed 3 more pounds of stuff in there! HA! Never overlook an opportunity but the bags slip away into the bowels of JFK to be regurgitated into my plane.My dear brother spends about an hour sitting with me in the cramped and very uncool lobby of the Delta terminal of JFK before we decide to part ways.I, of course, turn into a watering pot while he stays calm, cool, and collected. He waits while I wait in line to security. As I put my things on the conveyor, I look up... he's gone. He was my last thread connecting my physically to my family, friends, and life in the United States. And with that, voila, it's cut. I start my swim out to sea.Next... Traveling Talia for Tishrei, Pt. 1