always learning goodbye

Saying goodbye is usually quite complex. There are the times when you are actually waiting to leave. There are times when instead of saying goodbye you hold on to the next time so there is no real goodbye. There are times when your insides turn because you know what you are leaving is precious and significant and even if you return you can never return in this way. 

Stephen is beginning our goodbyes as he heads for Charlotte in two days. I basically want to sit in his lap constantly for the next 48 hours because I cannot get all the warmth and comfort out of him to carry me until we are together again. This time it actually will not work to focus on the next because it is too long to hold onto these last days and hope that they can take up enough space in the ache of his absence. As we have anticipated his going first, we have come to realize so much more of all that he offers to our rhythms and our home.

As Hannah so knowingly said, "so things are going to get hectic around here." Containment and strength are headliners of the way he offers himself in this home. So even as her 8 year old heart anticipates the weeks without her dad, she knows, things are a little less calm and bound without him. Its a second pair of hands and much more its a second set of arms to hold and hug and care and nurture these kids. Its another pair of eyes that offer love and adoration. 

It feels crazy to be realizing that the first step in this particular move, this particular goodbye is accepting that we will face much of it without Stephen's presence. And we are all a little apprehensive and already longing for him. Much of this unbelievable significant life out here I will try to close out myself with the help of friends and family.  Again, as my wise daughter said the other night as tears streamed down her face, "this is one of those times when it would be really really good to have SuSu around. She would just know how to help me." Yes. yes. You are right. Exactly right. So here we go wanting to soak in every hug, every meal, every eye connection before we start our train of goodbyes. We adore you Stephen.