Lucky in My Goodbyes

When I was 11, my parents moved us halfway across the country and away from extended family.

My grandparents visited a year later. When after a week they had to leave, I wallowed into my first big “goodbye” that sticks in memory. I made a sloppy mess of it.

I’ve experienced many more goodbyes since then. Life brings goodbyes as surely as it blesses with sunsets, although thankfully we get more sunsets.

It’s not a competition, of course, but I’ve perhaps said more goodbyes than most people – because I’ve moved often, enough times to have held driver’s licenses in seven states.

Perhaps that move at age 11 gave me permanently twitchy feet and thus brought more goodbyes. I’ve wondered.

However many we bear, goodbyes occur only because we also experienced meaningful connection: acquaintanceship, colleagueship, friendship. And the deeper and more abundant our connections, the harder our goodbyes.

It’s the Law of Parting. Friendship first, then goodbye. Reward, then ache. Connection, then solitary reflection.

So many goodbyes, each borne from friendship. I’ve been lucky.

And now one more.

Goodbye, my friend.