Goodbyes

I said goodbye to April and Evan today. It was unreal, because it's hard to imagine them being on the other side of the country. I was telling April that, even though I'll still see them at holidays, the fact that they are three time zones away is the worst part. Time zones separate people emotionally-- in addition to the physical separation created from distance. I reflected on this same idea when I was at the O'Hare airport in Chicago on the way to Las Vegas for Spring Break. We landed on a Saturday evening, and I thought about how I was in the same city as Adam (the atheist--not the priest). It's funny, because Chicago is not that far away. If he lived in Traverse City, I wouldn't think much of the distance, but all I could think about was how it was nice to be in the same time zone as my brother. I just take for granted the idea that I am in the same time zone and connected by similar everyday events to the people I love. Most of us all eat lunch or dinner within a few hours of each other. We usually have several hours of sleep at night that overlap. One hour is not that big of a difference, but I still notice it when it comes to chatting to Adam online or calling. We're certainly on different schedules. It will be really tough having April and Evan three time zones away. It will make calling a pain in the ass, but we've always e-mailed pretty regularly. 

It's funny, because saying goodbye to them forced me think about how our relationship has evolved since I first met April on my way to South Dakota when I was 16.  I went to breakfast with Jon recently; I mentioned that I was still close with April and Evan. He said it brought a tear to his eye, which is funny, because it's a classic Jon moment, but it was nice that he recognized the sacredness in the growth I've experienced in the past few years.

I can't stop thinking about how many people I've had dramatic goodbyes with in the past year or two. It seems like I say a lot more goodbyes; it's the long ones that kill. I hate when I don't know if or when I will see the person. Saying goodbye to my writing professor was hard for that reason, because I knew I could learn so much more from her, but I might not see her again. It made me think of saying goodbye to my favorite English professor from the year before. I still e-mail her from time to time, but I didn't expect to see her again when I said goodbye. I wonder if I ever will. Kristin is going to Spain for the ENTIRE year next year. Saying goodbye to her will be heartbreaking, I'm sure. April's sister, Val, is also moving out-of-state, so I am preparing to go to coffee with her in the next couple weeks to say a final goodbye. Even saying goodbye to Adam before he goes back to Chicago,  saying goodbye to my family before I go back to school, or saying goodbye to my friends at school before I come home for the summer is emotionally draining. I am fortunate, because I keep meeting wonderful people, but the more people I meet, the more goodbyes that brings. 

I'm always especially awkward when I say long goodbyes. I ruin the moment by being silly or stupid, because it keeps me from being sad until the person actually leaves and allows me to laugh a little longer with them. I should work on my goodbye behavior. How does one practice that? I seem to do it a lot these days, so I should get smoother at it, but sometimes I feel like my inappropriate and awkward behavior in sad situations helps ease the intensity of the sadness. It does for me, at least.