The Art of Saying Goodbye
Saturday, September 22, 2012
I'm the sort of person who (I think) is usually alright at handling emotions and situations. But sometimes when required to say "bye", it can become a big deal for me. Even in a regular situation, it can feel weird when leaving without acknowledging it. And when a goodbye already is a big deal, I'm not always entirely sure what to do.
Take this summer, for instance. After a week of work experience with some very kind people, I needed to say goodbye. I wrote a card (see, I like writing!) but on the last day I also felt the need to say bye to each individual desk I'd worked at (it's a big open office space) - and something along the lines of "thank you for helping me. I had so much fun". Because it was true, and it needed saying. I mean, it was only one week, and chances are our paths won't necessarily cross again. But it still felt weird and sad nonetheless. Another example - after spending a holiday with relatives I only see once every few years, the final goodbye was strange. Because they are still part of my life; but not part of the life I am accustomed to. Do you make a heartfelt speech about leaving? Do you just do an over-the-shoulder wave? Do you give big teary hugs to all? Maybe it's also got something to do with leaving the country. On my last day in Spain, I felt a wee bit emotional even saying bye to the charming porter at our apartment place.
Hug, smile, and wave. (Or in the case of the porter, just smile and wave. Because sometimes you should never cross that line with strangers.)
When you say "bye", you're also thinking, "when will I see you next?" And so that determines the nature of your word. Whether it's a quick wave, or the thing you never want to say; a wave of emotion. Bye is easy when you know you'll see them again soon (ie. the next day) but when it's a long, long, long time away - or even never - that's when The Art of Saying Goodbye becomes The Art of Trying Hard Not To Cry.
It feels like a lifetime away but I remember the last day of primary school; the signing of shirts and (really) awkward kisses on cheeks, the (later broken) promises of keeping in touch, goodbyes. Then came year 11; the hoodies, the "this-will-never-be-the-same-agains", then realising that actually not a lot had changed. Then the last day of secondary school where you allowed yourself to get more than a bit weepy, vowing to use every means of social technology available to stay as close as possible even though you may be geographically far, far away.
I think I'll always be a little bad at saying goodbye, mainly because I'm not the best at it and probably have a knack for making it slightly awkward, but I always want and need to say it. It's just difficult to put into words, sometimes, when all you really need is the one word.*
And so the cycle continues. Making our way through life with the salutations to guide us. Because saying goodbye usually means the next word is "hello". Your "goodbye" puts a stamp on the now - the present - and a question mark by the next "hello" in the blurry future. You think, hopefully, "when will I see you again?". Hopefully it will be soon. I don't think I'll ever perfectly master the art of saying goodbye, but I reckon that's a good thing. Because when it's hard, there's substance behind the word. And in the meantime, hug, smile and wave.
Bye (I'll see you again soon),
Bev x
*I'll give you a clue. It starts with G.....
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