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So the past few days have seen me saying lots of good-byes…

…To a dear friend and her husband, moving halfway across the country…

…To a new friend and coworker who I’ve quickly become fond of…

…To a classroom full of children who, for the most part, have each laid claim to pieces of my heart…

…To my son and his 5th grade class. Although he isn’t technically going anywhere, he will be in middle school next year, leaving behind his old school and a part of his childhood…

I know that I am being maudlin, but there is a reason the the word “bittersweet” exists; there is something dark and sweet to this nostalgic melancholy, like deep dark chocolate that you nibble and savor.

I know this too shall pass, but for now I want to wallow a bit in these feelings; to savor and study them, to pull apart their strands and see where they are connected, and what happens if I tug on them.

My logical mind knows that none of these good-byes are necessarily permanent.

And yet there is that realist inside of me who refuses to let me forget that all of life is a fleeting, ephemeral thing; we are guaranteed nothing beyond this very moment in time.

This is the part of me that clings to farewells, weeps silent tears, arranges photo collages, and always, always fervently hopes that they really are only temporary, and better expressed by the French farewell, “au revoir,” or “until we see each other again.”

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