One thing that seems to define this stage of life is the constant round of arrivals and departures.
Just over the last couple of days I’ve said au revoir to an offspring setting out from home for the next stage of his yoing adult life. Bid a final farewell, at the funeral of a friend who seemed securely there on the periphery of my life, yet is suddenly gone. Begun knitting for a baby expected in my extended family.
People come and they go all the time, but somehow I didn’t notice or feel the ebb and flow so acutely before.
I’ve become much more aware of the seasons these days, both in the trees and in life.
Let the Feelings In
How to cope with the flood of emotions that arise at each greeting and each farewell? It’s always a joy when someone close comes back for a while, and a wrench when they leave. But this is life.
There is no escaping. Might as well set up home on Waterloo station.
I think the only thing to do is in embrace it. Show the love when they’re here. Have those deep conversations. Stop being afraid of saying the things that matter.
And do my best to let go of fear, that old existential gremlin who sits on my shoulder muttering :Maybe they won’t come back. Maybe this is the last time you’ll see them (insert evil cackle).
It’s obvious that living in the present moment as much as possible is the only way to manage this. Watching the seasons up close is a good way in.
I’m going down the garden right now to have a closer look at those berries that are starting to flush red, the big brown spiders that have shown up early this year, the leaves that are just starting to tinge yellow. They are trying to tell me something.
Stand there and breathe. Say hi. Say bye. Love it all, just the way it damn well is.