Goodbye

The Hellos have calmed down a bit and 2008 has introduced a few Goodbyes.

When my parents told me they were selling our cabin and buying a new place this month, I wanted to make time for a proper Goodbye and a trip down memory lane.

2008 brings me closer to a wild summer, filled with change. While so many things about this year fill me with excitement and energy, there is grief and loss in every transition. I happen to be running for Miss Transition 2008.

In June I’ll change my name. I’ll move and change my address. I’ll get married. I’ll cease my student status for the first time and graduate. I’ll find a job. I might be a pastor. I’ve been a transient nomad for all of my adult life, moving often and traveling the world. Still, this summer takes the cake for the most change I’ll encounter at once and this ship needs an anchor.

I packed Matt’s car for a weekend up north in the quiet of the cabin and winter. I left my keys with my brother in the city in case there was a snow emergency and drove toward a Goodbye and a weekend to think about the things to come.

By ten thirty last night we could be found with a small flashlight combing the area a spare key has been hiding for the past eleven years. I'd left my cabin key back in the cities with my car key and we were out of luck finding the misplaced spare. Oops. This was not the Goodbye I’d envisioned.

There are plenty of familiar and sacred places in my life, but none that span so many years, see me so often and know so many moods and characters in my story. Goodbye was important considering the other Goodbyes and Hellos on their way this year.

We walked down to the lake where my eyes filled with tears and I looked around at a familiar night. There was the floating dock my brother built two years ago and the trees that supported a hammock full of memories. I walked in circles through the snow telling myself stories out loud and wishing for a key to appear in my palm.

It was almost an hour before I realized I was cold and tired from trying to squeeze a weekend of Goodbyes into a dark night by the lake. I turned to the water and whispered a prayer that the breeze picked up and carried into the west and over the ice.

Today I realize that I sounded like a drippy Lifetime movie when I wandered around the shoreline retelling the children’s story Goodnight, Moon.

Goodnight, Lake.
Goodnight, Fish.
Goodnight, Tree.
Goodnight, Fire Pit.
Goodnight, Dock.
Goodnight, House.

With Goodbyes come tears, but also Hellos. Before we climbed back in the car for another long drive, I looked up at the stars. They were bright and perfect and follow me everywhere I go, even into a crazy and wonderfully strange June. Hours later, we were back in the city and I looked up to find them faithfully above. Their watch was clouded by Minneapolis and St. Paul, but I could make them out and I slept soundly knowing they were still with me.