We never stop saying “goodbye”.
Once in Spanish class, my teacher, Professor Siefker, told us he loved the way Latin Americans greet each other when passing by. Generally, when we cross paths with someone, we simply say goodbye because we’re not going to start a conversation, since we’re both just passing through. But here in the United States, it’s different: when you pass someone, you start with a greeting and ask how they’ve been. Which is pointless, since neither of you is going to answer the question and you’ll both keep walking. That’s why Professor Siefker told us he preferred to say goodbye instead of hello when he passed someone.
That’s when I realized we’re so used to saying goodbye. But for someone so accustomed to saying goodbye, I’ve never been able to make it hurt less.
Since I was little, I’ve had to say goodbye to many people, either because I had to move or because it was their time to leave. And although sometimes the goodbye wasn’t the last time I would see them, it would be the last time I would see that version of them.
I’ve said goodbye to friends from elementary school, middle school, high school, and now college. I’ve said goodbye to versions of my home that will never return. Sometimes, which I regret, I didn’t say goodbye because, in my human mind, I took it for granted that I would see them again, and, sadly, the end of life came before me.
Many people say that saying goodbye to something is simply the beginning of something else. And that’s true, but this new beginning, where you’ll walk new paths, will be without the people you were used to walking with, and that’s perhaps what leaves you with a lump in your throat when you look at the clock and realize that your time with them is getting shorter and shorter.
It might be a cliché to say that it’s important to enjoy every second you spend with someone. But it truly is the best thing we can do. I think we often live in the future, thinking about what we’re going to do later, waiting for the moment we’ll see someone else. We’re strange creatures; we spend our time longing for the past and waiting for the future, but rarely living in the present.
I’m at a point in my life where I’ll soon have to say goodbye to friends who were a big part of my university years. These friends, who taught me so much, are now going on to achieve wonderful things, and although I know we’ll stay in touch, I’ll miss going into the offices and laughing with them. I’ll miss doing homework and talking until two in the morning in our study room.
Given certain situations, I also face the possibility of having to say goodbye to someone I love and who has been a part of my life for a long time. And although I pray every day that I won’t have to, I realize that if it’s not today, in a few years I will have to say goodbye to family members I love so much. When it happens, I hope I will have cherished every second with them.
Although I say goodbye with tears in my eyes, I also do so with a smile, because I know that wherever these people go, I will take a piece of them with me and find them in everything I do: when I play with my rings, when I watch a superhero movie, when I see the color blue, or when I sew a dress. They will always be there.
I’m used to saying goodbye, but it hasn’t made it hurt any less. I’m used to saying goodbye; I have to be, because, apparently, we never stop.
