Honesty hour: I suck at goodbyes. In my own little perfect world I would never have to say goodbye to the things I long to keep close. My second year of college just ended and for everyone that follows me on Facebook and Instagram, I apologize for the amount of sentimental videos and pictures I will be posting in the next few weeks.
I can only describe goodbye as a soul crushing, heart breaking and pain filled experience that I have come to despise. Goodbyes for me are constantly happening, especially as a school year ends, and I do not like it one bit. I have had to say goodbye to friends, professors, my campus, and my amazing ensemble that I fondly call family. With every hug goodbye and every sentimental note, with every acknowledgement of the current season of my life ending, I wanted nothing more than to hold on tight and never let go. But I cannot keep 16 people in the same place all at once, and I cannot hold on to something that God wants me to have a break from. Every season begins and ends for a reason, and the great thing about summer is that its only three months.
Getting emotional is only natural when you have to part with the people that you have seen every day, who have poured into your life, and who have been there through the highs and lows of your year. Let me tell you this: If you cry when you say goodbye for a while, that is OK, because that is exactly what I do. The amount of tears I shed in the past five days could’ve easily filled about two small kiddie pools. But that is how I process change that I don’t want to deal with. But lately I have had a wonderful revelation about goodbyes of all respects: expected, unexpected, wanted, and unwanted. I am always going to have to say goodbye to something, but goodbyes aren’t forever.
GOODBYES ARE NOT FOREVER.
When I was a senior in high school I had to say an unexpected goodbye to a wonderful friend of mine. He passed away due to a car accident about three months before graduation. Until this past August I had been so deeply affected by the fact that I never had the chance to say goodbye to him. There was never a “see you later” or an “I’ll miss you.” But that unexpected goodbye is not forever, because I get to think on the fact I get to see him again one day when I too pass away to greet God in heaven. The unexpected goodbyes in our lives are not forever.
Another slightly heavy goodbye I’m about to encounter in the next week is saying goodbye to the home that I was raised in. A house I have lived in for the past 13 years of my life. When you have so many memories attached to a place, letting go of it is beyond difficult. As I pack for a summer of a lifetime with WinShape Camps, I will also be packing up a room filled with memories and emotional attachment. But the great realization about this kind of bittersweet goodbye, is that even though places aren’t constant, memories are. Home isn’t comprised of four walls, a roof and a door; but rather, the memories that you carry with you. I realized that, while I made memories in the house, the house itself is not my attachment, but the memories that I associate with it are my attachment, and I can take those with me anywhere I go.
On a much lighter side of the spectrum I said goodbye this week to some of the best people I’ve ever met. There in an obvious void in their absences in my days, and that fills me with a longing for the Fall semester to start already, but the greatest thing about expected goodbyes is that they really are a “see you later.” In three months’ time I will have that picturesque movie moment where I run into the arms of my extremely missed adopted sister, I will once again get to fail at long boarding and Ultimate as my best friend tries to make me get better, and I will once again have fun filled rainy afternoons of tap dancing in puddles with a wonderful brother. Three months isn’t as long as a lot of us think it is. It’s just an uncomfortable period of time.
Goodbyes are not easy, especially for me, but I now have the outlook that I wish I had many years ago. Goodbye is not forever, it’s only a “for now,” and for that I am truly thankful.
