Right now...next week, the tables are turning. We have friends who are going to be leaving us, and I have found that I have no idea what to do with myself in this situation.
When you're the one who's leaving, saying good-bye to the friends who are staying is undeniably difficult. Physically moving your family is worth mourning. You're parting from relationships that are warm and comfortable and easy and right there.
However, just as adrenaline kicks in during an injury, the unknown of your enticing new life tends to mask the pain of a permanent good-bye. Life before a move is so hectic and overbooked with packing, paperwork, farewell parties and cleaning out the freezer that you don't even have the time to process what is happening. That you're leaving. That it may be months...or years...or never...before you see those incredible people with whom you have shared intimate memories, laughter, sorrows, birthdays, life.
The leavers don't have time to dwell on the "maybe nevers."
The stayers do.
Today, I'm the stayer, and I'm so sad about it.
My life has always had this way of working out so that people come into it at precisely the right times. I've been blessed with gifts of powerful female friendships that are beyond compare, so, when I meet a woman who so naturally fits into my cradle of connections, I long to keep her there forever. I lure her into my home with piping hot coffee and blueberry crumb cake, hoping she'll never want to leave.
When fate intervenes and brings a family to my doorstep that is meant just for me, how else can I react but to embrace them?
Two years ago, a Japanese couple with two young boys moved into a house across the street from us! Of all the streets in all the states in all of America, they moved onto ours. Their kids were in the same grades in school as two of ours. The boys didn't speak English yet, but Mark could speak Japanese. Nobody in this town speaks Japanese, but he does. See what I mean about fate? Of course we took them under our wing for American traditions like Trick-or-Treat, and they invited us into their home to enjoy delectable Japanese cuisine we hadn't had in years. While our Japanese and expatriate connection was the ice breaker to beginning this relationship, two years later we share a friendship that I am sure would have blossomed from any circumstance.
While I have always known that their life in America was temporary, I kept their move date in the back of my mind. It appeared to be so far in the future that there wasn't actually a need to think about it. Now, that looming date is knocking around in my mind like a bowling ball. They will be leaving our tranquil wooded street for Toyko in ten days. I will need to say good-bye. Can someone please give me instructions on how to do it?
How do I accept that we won't be seeing them every morning at our bus stop? Fall Saturdays with our boys playing on the same soccer team will be gone. No more bumping into them at school functions, and Halloween in our neighborhood will be so strange without them.
Our streets have been covered in snow and ice since the middle of November. Covered. This week, we have finally begun to see small sections of dry pavement. While I was driving out of the neighborhood two days ago, I saw my friend's oldest son riding his bike on what surely will be one of his last carefree bike rides on our block. He waved enthusiastically at me, and I flashed a huge smile and waved like crazy back at him. Then, I turned my car in the opposite direction as tears began to roll down my cheeks. I cried because I know that when Spring finally does arrive, he and his little brother will not be here to zoom up and down our driveway. His mom and I won't be standing in the street, chatting for an hour as we share stories about cooking and her career and this universal phenomenon known as parenting.
This morning, as I wipe my tears and take deep breaths to prepare for this farewell, I come away with these words for our friends, the leavers:
I am so happy for you and what is coming next in your life! I know you will miss the school and memories made here, but you are going HOME! You will finally be able to drive where you are comfortable. You can shop where everything is familiar...food, drinks, clothes...everything will be easy again. You will be with your family.
You will be missed. You will be remembered. Thank you for resting in this friendship cradle of mine, even if it was only for a little nap.
Now that I have been the leaver and the stayer, I can't say that one is easier than the other. Both are gut-wrenching. Both bring up emotions you never knew you were capable of having. Are you usually the leaver or the stayer? What's the hardest part for you?
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