I have never been one for good byes. Who am I kidding? I want to punch good byes in the face. They stink. I’m not just talking about the rip your heart out funeral goodbyes… They ebb and flow with our military lifestyle. Our friends come and go but they remain constantly friends, I just don’t always know when I’ll see them again. We constantly appear in front of our families and then disappear muttering see ‘ya in a few months. This weekend I believe was the absolute worst of goodbyes.
I think that driving away from Mom’s house was almost as bad as driving away from the grave yard. When Dad died, it was bad. I rode across that 800+ miles back to Virginia to a brand new job and a six month deployment for Ray. My heart was broken but I knew Tye was there to pick up the pieces. He’s not there now. I have horrible guilt that I’m not there either. Life is busy. I know that in rushing four kids to every place that they need to be, I would most likely not be that much help but I have heaps of guilt nonetheless.
Maybe it’s the fact that I just got off a flight with a sick husband, a child in tears with a possible ear block, one very slow Chinaman and smelling a little like a litter box after multiple trips into the airplane bathroom with Bria and Jack. I’m not being mean when I call Jack slow. He just is. so. very. slow. One of the kids asked a little too loudly for my taste, “Are all Chinese people slow or is it just Jack?” Snail’s pace doesn’t even begin to describe how slow he was walking through the airport. Of course, Bria also slowed us by missing the first step on an escalator and riding more than halfway up doing the splits thereby refusing to step on another escalator for the rest of the day lest she fall and stretch her legs again. I’ve clearly been rode hard and put up wet today. We left a car that said it was 18 degrees and then burnt to a crisp on an airplane arriving to 85. Yes, feel sorry for us please. We do stink. I had one that slept in the floor of a hotel room that we paid for to avoid bothering her sister. We ran out of batteries and the little girl sitting next to Arleigh lost her breakfast, lunch and supper in the 9 hours or so that we spent on the trip from Atlanta to Honolulu. So you see, my view of the world might be a bit skewed right about now.
All I know is that when I was younger, the sound of a slamming screen door was music to my ears because that meant I was three steps closer to the car and outta there. I love my life. I’ve loved living in Iceland with one foot in Europe, one foot in North America and the opportunity to live a different culture. I loved that in Maryland we had the opportunity to drive up and down the east coast. I loved trying to plant roots in Virginia and transplanting them to Tennessee. I would be bat poop crazy to say I don’t live living in paradise. Seriously. Blue skies and rainbows EVERY SINGLE DAY! I love it here. I also hate to leave. The knife twists a little bit more every time we go.
I’m horrible at goodbyes. I hate for the kids to leave their cousins. I caught Bria trying to make room for Katie Beth in the suitcase. Broke my heart. If I acted like a weirdo… I’m sorry. Can we just say until we meet again?