The Art of Saying Goodbye

If you've been wondering how to properly say goodbye to someone you care about but will not see for a long time, if ever again, I've come up with a step-by-step guide that might help. This happens when either you or they are moving to a different city, state, country, or even continent. After moving away several times and leaving numerous amazing people, people who I'd much rather keep in my life, but can't 'cause that's how my life works, I've developed the following strategies that make said move easier (though never pain free). Warning: This guide may not work for you, as it has only been implemented by one person. Me.

Step 1: Prior to a month before your (or their) departure, don't think about it too much. Let it sit meekly in the back of your mind that the end is nearing, but do not let it start to taint your time with your friends and family. Go about life as usual, despite also needing to make flight / passport / visa / moving arrangements in your free time.

Step 2: When there's about a month left, think about who is important to you and make individual plans with them to do the things you usually do together. It might be one person, it might be 10, but make sure you make individual plans with every person that you even faintly enjoy being around and care about. For me, this helps to close doors and move on without feeling like something has been left unresolved. Also include the people who seek out spending time with you. You never know who you're important to and who wants to say goodbye.

Step 3: About a week prior to departure, only spend time with those closest to you. Don't waste time on the people you're not particularly fond of or the people who didn't treat you well (hopefully that doesn't sound cruel). Still, don't let your looming departure sadden your time with this closest group. Continue to carry on as usual, knowing in the back of your mind that the end is drawing near, but keeping things positive instead of sad. Don't let your final memories with your friends be full of sorrow. Make new, positive memories together that will stick with you for the rest of your life.

Step 4: When the time comes to say goodbye for the last time to someone, especially your closest ones, don't skimp, but don't go on too long. If you're a hugger, give the person a meaningful hug. Be honest. Tell them that you'll miss them. Tell them that you're sad to leave and that they really had an impact on you and that you hope to see them again in the future. Let it show, now, that it really is hard to leave. You've been holding it in for the past month, but now is the time to let them know that they really, truly will be missed and will always be missed. Try not to cry too much or make too much of a scene because it just gets awkward after a while. But, most importantly, make your goodbye honest and genuine towards each unique person. Now's not the time for false words, overly dramatic farewells, or holding back thoughts the person would probably like to hear.

Step 5: Leave. Don't drag it out forever. Say goodbye meaningfully to each person you need to say goodbye to, and leave. But, don't be afraid to look back and catch one last glimpse of that marvelous soul. It very well may be the last time you'll ever see them.

Step 6: When the time is right, let all of the sorrow and tears completely out. Embrace the sadness and let it momentarily engulf you. For each person, the right time is different. It might be an hour later, in the nighttime window of your thankfully dark plane. It might be twenty hours later, in the quiet of your darkened room. It might be a week later, in your car pulled off to the side of the road en route to your new home. At some point, let it happen.

Step 7: Carry your friends and family with you wherever you go, tucked safely into the little chambers of your heart. Keep them there and don't forget about them, no matter how little you talk to them. They're a part of you, just as you're a part of them.

Step 8: Go out and say hello to the new people around you. You never know which might become the ones you'll eventually have to say goodbye to.          

Ozzie

Yesterday, our sweet Oz-monster, Oz-log, KamakOzzie, Mister Ozzie would have turned 17. I'm going to deeply miss this little old wonderful man for the rest of my life.

I hope you're resting well, my dearest old friend. You have no idea how much you mean to me.

Let's Dance

Is this a tango? A samba? I don't know. I also didn't know how to end it, so it just...ends. The final semester of my grad school experience starts tomorrow and I'm looking forward to diving into work and coming up for a fresh breath of air at the end. Hopefully in the form of a fellowship with the English Language Fellows program. Hopefully in Chile. Or Mongolia. Or Argentina. Or Belarus. Or Turkey. Or South Africa. Or ... you get the picture. Or Reno. It is always there, being missed.

Home

this is where I come from
that sand runs through my veins
and is what I always miss
and is all I need to be home

First

This is the first song I came up with. It's a little repetitive, but I think it's my favorite...just because it was the first. I hope you like my blinds.

a song of my own

I seem to have lost the ability to write anything remotely interesting. Maybe it'll come back once grad school is over. Instead, I recently found that I can come up with really simple songs. Back when I was 9, I started taking piano lessons and have played pretty much ever since, but never for the life of me could come up with a new song. Grad school and Peace Corps may have done something to my brain because all of a sudden, I've got songs. Since I can't write anymore, I'll share one of them here. I hope it's not too painful to your ears. Please enjoy a lovely shot of my blinds, as well.

Dear Peace Corps,

I know we didn't part on the best of terms, but now that more than a year has passed, I can confidently say that I regret nothing. As I walked home from class today, it hit me more clearly than it ever has before. I am here, in grad school, studying something that I've discovered completely fascinates me from nearly every angle, teaching students who never cease to impress me, doing what I find more fulfilling and satisfying than anything ever before, and you're to blame for all of that, Peace Corps. You. You forced me to do the last thing I ever wanted to do. You dropped eager, motivated students right in front of my face, in a roundabout manner, and said "See? You silly goose, teaching's not that bad." And it's not. It's not that bad at all.

Back in high school and college, I remember feeling acutely jealous of anyone who knew exactly what they wanted to do with their lives. Choosing a field of study was difficult enough for me that I switched majors five times and couldn't settle on just one. And while studying and pursuing my degrees, it never felt quite right. I didn't want to read more than I had to. I couldn't fathom a topic in GIS to research. I couldn't imagine doing field work forever, yet I stuck with it. And I'm glad I did. Having a science background hasn't been a setback in studying linguistics and TESOL. In fact, I think it has helped me out a few times on the analytic and factual side of things. But it's so good to be studying English. And teaching English. And being involved in something that seems to be a part of me. Something that is coursing through my veins and beating through my heart and pounding through my brain, in a way that geography and map-making never did.

What if we had never met? I wonder that from time to time. Who on earth would I be? I define myself by my beliefs and the things I do that are inline with those beliefs, much of which has evolved into a me that I love due to my experiences with you. Perhaps for the first time in my life, I feel like I can say that I love who I am. I love me. And who I've become. Sure, I've got my quirks, but there's not much I'd change. Maybe it's just maturity and becoming comfortable in my own skin, but I'd like to think it's also finally discovering a path and a purpose that is crystal clear, bright, and promising in comparison to all those other paths I've been muddling through.

You're going to be a part of my life forever. Miha, Lajos, Kati, Gabi, Beti, Anca, Roli, Lia, Cezi, Anisoara, and Laci will never leave me, no matter how little communication we have. You and they are in every lesson I teach and in every lesson I learn, and always will be. And it's just a little cheesy how beautiful it all looks right now.

I guess I should say thank you. So, thank you, Peace Corps, for bringing about the me that I've spent the past 30 years trying to find. Thank you.