It only gets more difficult to say goodbye

The overlook at Century Village, Burton, Ohio

For New Year’s Eve this year, my friends and I did some looking ahead. But first, we reflected. One thing I wrote down was a list of the cities I have called home in this last decade. To see so many places on paper was a lot to take in. Looking at this list, I was brought back to each city - the friends I made there, the food I ate, and the flowers I took pictures of. I am so grateful to have been able to have all of these experiences. And though I would not change a thing, that is not to say that taking the opportunities I have been given to explore the world has not come at any cost.

I’ve never been great at saying goodbye. That moment at the airport when you have to let go, to walk away. To not look back. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve only gotten messier, dissolving into unintelligible tears. I can feel the heaviness coming, and once the crying begins, it is difficult to stop.

I didn’t want that to happen this time. I knew I was making myself sick from all those tears. Getting all worked up, as my mother would say, for nothing. And as I began to reflect on past goodbyes, I think maybe I recognize what it was I was feeling: it was as if that last moment together, that last hug, that last kiss blown back as I walked through the security line, it was as if those were the last moments, ever. I didn’t want to go on like that: tearfully saying goodbye out of fear. As if that would be the last time I would see them.

The tearful goodbyes began when I went away to college for the first time. My dog was older, and I understood, pragmatically, that that might be the last time I would see him. I sat with him for hours, talking and crying. I don’t know if he was oblivious or if I made him sad and confused. Instead of cherishing what might have been our last moments together, I wept. When he did pass, years later, that night was full of tears and pain. It took a long time to not be sad every time I thought of him or saw his picture. Similarly later, when one of my loved ones was seriously ill, I had a difficult time looking forward. With the future uncertain, every moment was precious, every hug could be the last. I didn’t want to spend any time alone or with other people; I didn’t want to miss out on any time together.

As we move further on in life, more happens, and we miss it. We make choices that sometimes take us far away. We can’t be in every place at once, and sometimes that means we miss things: important family events like weddings, and the even more sacred daily moments: the memories we make just by being together. Those are moments we can’t even know we are missing out on. And those are the ones that mean the most.

So when we are together, let us be happy. Nothing is ever certain, so whether we are saying goodbye to go run an errand, or saying goodbye to fly across the ocean, let’s make these moments mean something more than fear. Let us cherish the time that we have. Let us not dwell on the inevitable goodbye at the end of the visit. And more important, let us not give thought to the ultimate goodbye until that comes to pass. Let us enjoy each day as the gift that it is, and leave it at that.

love,

greer