Day 33: Goodbyes

I hate goodbyes. I have had to do them too many times, for different reasons, throughout my life, and they hurt too much. So much so, in fact, that I have almost successfully programmed my response to one of complete external numbness before and during the process, just to cope. It probably isn't really a healthy strategy longterm. I mean, inevitably, it all catches up to me, I lose the plot, and the proverbial pawpaw hits the fan.

This goodbye is no different. I mentioned in a previous post that I always book my holidays for as long as possible - and I don't regret it; still, the longer I stay, the more difficult it is to say goodbye after.

We have been in the UK 33 days. We have become part of the fibre of the families and communities that we have been visiting, and they have become part of ours. We have our collective unique routines and particular habits, and they'll be hard to break.

Personally, I would rather do it hard and fast - like ripping a bandaid off an ouchie. I avoid eye contact, speak minimally, and walk away without looking back. Later, I usually send the words in my heart via a contemplative and meticulously composed text (I'm not a phone person) so that I don't have to see the response, and they don't have to see mine - usually in the form of a good, long sob.

For better or worse, today is rough. We're all taking the trip to London together, so it'll be the unabridged farewell. It may or may not help that I have work and the kids have school this week, so we'll all be busy and distracted. Spare a thought for Andel though: it's only a matter of time before he'll be mopping up pawpaw at our house.