On Goodbyes

      It's hard to believe this time a month ago I was saying my goodbyes to my friends and a wonderful semester in Malawi. 

     Or that two weeks ago I was saying goodbye to the place I'd accidentally grown a lot more attached to than I intended over the past few years. 

     Or that just yesterday I was saying goodbye to one of my best friends for the past eight years as he prepares to move across the country to be the best darn chemistry teacher Agua Fria High has ever seen.

     Needless to say, I'm exhausted.

A watercolor the kids did of me as I was saying goodbye. Fairly accurate.

     If you've ever met me, you probably know I'm a pansy. I'm sensitive, sentimental, and otherwise neurotic. I'm not good at letting things go. Sometimes that looks like a fiercely loyal gal eager to catch up no matter the time that has elapsed since the last get-together. Other times it looks like boxes and boxes of old school papers, notes from middle school boys (I peaked in sixth grade), a drawer full of t-shirts from a sport I haven't played in over half a decade. And that's only the not-so-embarrassing junk I've kept around. We won't go into the cringe-worthy actions I've taken in an effort to cling to friendships or some special memory after the season passed.

     I'm not really sure what it is about goodbyes, but I've never been good at handling them. In theory I know everything has a season, but in real life it's difficult to smile, both thankful for what has happened and hopeful for what comes next.

     It's exciting to think about the ways my little friends at Mtendere will grow and mature. Before long, they won't be so little anymore. Sadly, it won't be too long before I probably won't be able to truthfully call them my friends anymore either. There's a slim chance I'll see them again in this lifetime, but if I do, they'll be different people. Josen won't be my mischievous preschooler forever. His antics will most likely become less cute, less innocent. He'll probably even get to that smelly, rude middle school boy phase. And I know I would love him fiercely. But the Josen I know is a little boy rockin' his purple shoes, overalls, and toothless grin. And I said goodbye to that Josen a month ago.

     Still, I'm going to try to do my best smile and thank God for allowing me to be present for that brief three month season in the life of Josen Mdala and friends.

     The same thing goes to saying goodbye to my time at Auburn. Just as my church back home seemed to be infested with more and more strangers each time I visited, the ACSC will transform from my haven to place teeming with stranger danger. Speaking of my anti-social tendencies, I can't help but think of my reclusive years in Suite 160. While it was a wonderful blessing to reunite with my three siblings and fellow Auburn alumni for graduation, it was strange to hear them talking about places that didn't even exist in Auburn anymore. 

     Despite the Haley Center's puzzling tenure on campus, the truth is life goes on and [most] things change. And as God began to show me over the last year (during internship and especially while in Malawi), people keep truckin' without me. Somehow my friends all survived the spring semester without me there. They even seemed to have fun. They had funny stories about snow days and banding together to survive campus terrorists and all sorts of things in between. And I wasn't there for any of it. And both the Auburn kids and I lived to tell about it. Evidently I'm not important enough for the world to stop or to revolve around me, so I guess the show will continue to go on even if I'm not in Auburn. 

     Despite the revelation, I'm going to try to do my best smile and thank God for allowing me to be present for that brief four year season in the life of my friends of Suite 160, the ACSC, Mtendere, and special ed.

     I may have to fake it until I make it, but I'll get there. I'm guessing it'll come once I figure out what's next. 

     It wasn't all that long ago I was tearfully driving away from Madison a few months after moving to Auburn, jamming to "Wide Open Spaces" in an effort to convince myself the goodbye was a good thing. I was sad to be leaving the familiar, a wonderful ministry and life-long classmates behind for a life in college where I was yet to find my place. Seems like history has a way of repeating itself. Goodbye, ACSC and ECSE, my friends. I know I'll looking back at this transition soon, thankful for the friends who weathered the change in season with me and at the same time glad for the shedding the not-so-wonderful things about the undergrad season. Like Auburn Parking Services. Or dealing with a chemically-imbalanced professor. Or homework.