There are always goodbyes and more goodbyes in our lives. It is simply a life of goodbyes, and I regularly tell newbies this when they are thinking about coming to our neck of the woods, or when they arrive. No sense in painting it as anything else. In a word, it is the highest regular price extracted of International Workers in my opinion.
This last week has been an oasis in life, hanging with the grand baby and two of the three kids, seeing them everyday, participating in their lives, making memories and having fun together. But the goodbye can always hang there in the corner of a cloudless sky if you don't take care to enjoy THIS moment, to enjoy THIS memory, to make this second count. The future is always, and never, there, to be encountered eventually.
So tomorrow I will crank the bike up, and drive away . . . as I have done countless times before, or said goodbye at some obscure airport in some hairy armpit of the world, or left them at boarding school, or flew away without them, and say goodbye. Then the countdown will begin until we can see them again. It is a life of goodbyes.
