I just realised that I don't usually say goodbye. I say "See you soon."
We drove Barb and her family to the airport tonight. Got there plenty early but I couldn't stay until gate time. I know you're supposed to live in the moment, but this was a moment I wasn't doing well with, so I said goodbye like ripping off a bandaid and got out fast. Driving away from the airport I wanted to turn around and go back and try again, but I didn't. Then I wished I'd written a letter to give to Barb to read later with all the stuff I couldn't say. But I didn't. Then I thought I should have given each of the kids some little package for on the plane - some gum and a MAD magazine or something. But I didn't.
Then I realised there was nothing I could have done to make goodbye easy or feel right or be memorable for the all the right reasons. That only happens in movies.
So I'll write them a letter and start learning how to be close from the other side of the world. I bet we'll get to be pretty good at it. We've done it before when Barb has lived in other countries.
And I'll quit fantasizing about life having a rewind button, and remember the feeling of her hug and also know that they are coming back. So maybe I should have just said, "See you soon." Because I will.
mompoet - sad