final

Final is the last... the end. It's knowing there is no more... be it a chance, grade, or water droplets in a dry well -- it's when no more remain.

Final is scary.

Finishing is risky.

Goodbye is daunting.

Goodbye accepts change, and recognizes that it could be forever. In order to survive, it must believe that forever is survivable.

Goodbye induces chaos and inspires what-if's. Goodbye stirs memories and awakens fears. Goodbye strangles the throat and blurs the eyes.

Goodbye could quite possibly be measured against the plague.

In a short time I will bid a final goodbye to a part of my life I have been attempting to let go of for quite a while. The emotion within me that it still stirred by the situation is always frustrating and sometimes debilitating. I want to run far away to escape and stay close to hold on, both choices leaving me in a heap of emotion... and sleeping with a box of Kleenex in my bed for the first night in a very long time.

'Final' does not come with instructions, a guide on maneuvering through memories and wading through dreams gone by. 'Final' does not include a manual on managing tears or fears, on loving or letting go. 'Final' is open for interpretation.

But one thing is for sure: Final means moving on.

And I don't know how.

At one point I would have told you I'd give my right arm to never have to see this day, and at another I would have begged you for this very minute. Now that it's here, I can't even put one foot in front of the other. I don't know how to say goodbye.

I'm a saver -- If you sent it, I keep it. If I loved it, I store it. I reorganize to make space instead of tossing to clear out. Goodbye [to me] is never final because [[again] to me] I can always visit or mail or call or... something... and the continuation helps manage the separation.

Yet this goodbye must become final, even if I wouldn't desire it to be. No further expectation allowed.

This particular goodbye means bidding farewell to one of the biggest parts of my life and my heart. It's walking away from something that was once the most precious of all 'possessions', if I dare even label it so. It's choosing to let go of an idea that was once infinitely meaningful, and no longer trusting the support of something heavily leaned upon. It's releasing a big part of... well...me. Occasionally it feels like I'm leaving behind some of the person that's developed through this recent process -- the adventurous orator who makes friends easily, reads the newspaper, and sings Broadway out of sheer enjoyment. I know that realistically, I'm not leaving this person behind, because I will not walk away from who I've become... yet the anticipated separation feels like I am losing part of my soul.

And perhaps I am.

So I will let myself cry... for things that were and things that fell and things that were trampled in the process... and just because grieving is the thing to do right now... even if I thought that phase was over ages ago. I'll cry for the hurt and the laughter, for the life-changing situations and those that gave me fresh perspective. I'll cry because right now I think I'll never get over it. And I'll cry because I'm sure that I will, in fact, get over it. I'll cry because eventually down the road, this will no longer even be important. I'll cry for the time when I won't be crying any longer.

I'll cry for the day when my heart will be healed... and I'll cry that it took me so long to get there.

And how do I know my heart will be healed? Well, truly... I don't. But I do know that we have a big God, and He's in the business of healing.

Perhaps He's also in the business of helping us say goodbye.