18 days.
That's all the time I have left in this community I consider home. My to-do
list is long, my must-do list is even longer; it’s a hodgepodge of chores,
ideas, activities floating around my head surfacing only when they’re
desperately forced to gasp for air.
I’m
constantly crying. When my coworkers give me a longing look, someone I least
expect generously supports my mission, or friends reminisce about a time we
shared, tears immediately fall. And if I’m not silently sobbing, my head is in
my hands, eyes squeezed tightly shut and I try to pull it together before I
have a total meltdown in comprehending these hard goodbyes.
Needless to say, I was in an emotional and mental place that required someone to get me moving, someone who knows me to my bones and loves me more than anyone. Luckily my sister is a planner, and was able to take an extended weekend to help order my chaos.
.
I've always known how lucky I was to have a sister, let alone a sister I consider my very best friend. And as we get older, I’m showered with this blessing in countless ways.
Her weekend visit brimmed with joy (as it always does when we're together). Although I
made her pack up all my stuff and go through a bunch of oddities I somehow
accumulated, the talking, laughing and drinking coffee outweighed the work. We
were able to squeeze in so many summertime moments (you know the ones, where
everything is golden, the world totally at peace) - moments I’ll hold close
when the long days in Honduras take me for a ride.
But as the hours clicked by, we could feel her flight outta Boston was quickly looming.
.
As most
humans, I have had my fair share of goodbyes. Some full of tears, some with
begrudging relief, some in total denial, and most that leave me wondering how
I've been blessed with the special people in my life.
But the
hardest ones? The hardest ones are with the people who become so much a part of
you, who are able to guess what you're going to say before you finish a
sentence, who know the best and worst parts of your heart and love you anyway.
Bidding these types of friends farewell and not knowing when you're going to
see each other next are the most taxing goodbyes
Oh how
painful it is to walk away (or even worse see them walk away from you) while
contending with the fact that you don't know when you'll see them again. No
plans. No countdowns. No assurance that you'll be hugging, laughing and slowing
down moments together anytime soon.
.
When it
came time to drive my sister to the airport I couldn't stand to say adios. I
was a wreck driving home, attempted to steam out the sad feelings in the
shower, bandage my heart with essential oils and an early night in bed.
This first
goodbye was unbearable.
But then a
miracle (in my opinion) occurred. Her flight was cancelled! So we were quickly reunited with a bonus 16 hours together (basically meaning two more long conversations over coffee).
Somehow
when the second goodbye rolled around it didn't seem as hard. I was more at
peace. The Holy Spirit had swooped in and proved me wrong within an hour that I am not in control.
When I
thought it could potentially be a year before my sister and I were within hair
braiding distance of each other, I conceded to the darkness. I let it win. In
this small (but effective) moment I was reminded again that I as much as I
believe I can plan my life to a perfect T, what happens next isn't entirely up
to me.
.
With all
of these goodbyes I'm facing in the upcoming days, I know there will be many
lasts, tears and moments of sorrow. I'm certain words won't be able to capture
the depth of my sadness and heartache. It will feel like I'm breaking up with
someone who's helped me realize some of the best parts of myself, leaving me feeling completely lost with no service or GPS.
Yes, I
know these goodbyes will be hard. But I also know that if I pray, listen, and
trust in His good time, there will be many joyful (often unexpected)
"hellos."
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