I am terrible at good byes. I hate them with a passion and when confronted with them, I turn into a weepy mess. So naturally, I avoid them at all cost. As in, I do not schedule visits on the day I am leaving somewhere. I change plans at the last minute. I generally do not acknowledge the fact that I am leaving until I am walking into the airport and have gone through the terminal and am by myself or with only Preston.
I am working on it, kind of. But leaving Seattle this past Tuesday, I couldn’t do it. I really couldn’t. You see, saying I had an emotional week would be a major understatement. I was a sensitive, weeping fool. So saying goodbye to the sweet friends and heaven-sent family who dealt with me the past week wasn’t in the cards. There was no way I would have ever been able to say, ‘You mean the world to me and I am so thankful God gave you His grace to deal with my thousand tears, nonstop plans and endless feelings. I love you with my whole heart and don’t come anywhere close to deserving you but am so happy you’re mine’ without some serious crying and hyperventilating.
So I didn’t. I didn’t text Molly, Deena or Jessica and I didn’t go get coffee with Lauren. I was already gone by the time Joel, Chrissy and the boys came over to the house. I didn’t coerce Remy into going to the airport with all of us (saying good bye to him is the worst). I didn’t say let the word ‘bye’ leave my lips as we exited Bekah’s works. And my mom, Hannah and Ari? I gave hugs. Lots of them. And kisses, lots of those too. But I focused all of my energy onto making a big deal that I was missing my momma’s birthday the next day, not the fact that I was leaving. Because really, there was no way I could have put into words how much they meant to me and how much I would miss them, no way I could even try.
I know I will return soon. For good, and that makes me happy. But it doesn’t make it easier. I hate good byes, and so I avoid them. If your feelings have ever been hurt because I didn’t say goodbye when I left, or wish you goodbye when you did, I am truly sorry. But I hope you understand that it is because it hurts my heart, my soul, my mind to be separated from those I love dearly and so I generally save my tears for the kind, unassuming strangers on my airplane. God bless the sweet grandpa on my first flight who asked if I needed a glass of wine and then listened as I talked about my family and he about his. And bless you for dealing with my crazy hatred of good-byes.
“Life brings you unexpected places. Love brings you home.”