You Say "Goodbye" and I Say "Hello"

Already in my short twenty-four (and a half, mustn't forget the half) years, I have had to say more goodbyes than I would like. Goodbye St. Johns. Goodbye Thatcher. Goodbye Provo. Goodbye Flagstaff.

Truth be told, I despised Flagstaff for my first year of grad school. I loved school and I loved teaching, but I greatly disliked most aspects of my personal life. Mostly because I did not have much of a personal life to speak of and I was living in a dog-infested condo where I couldn't breathe. Oh, woe is me!

But this semester, everything changed. I was living with three of the most remarkable girls, who brought calm, organization, laughter, insight, peace, and a multitude of butt tickles (more explanation later) into my life. As Britney so aptly described it: it was like winning the roommate lottery. This was one of the best roommate situations I ever had (rivaled only by when Holly and I lived with Lora, Jenna, and Melissa in the Sperry House). Britney, Kirsi, and Ryan. Such lovely lovely girls. They changed my life. And in reality, they saved Flagstaff for me.

Because of them, my sphere of goodness only increased adding even more wonderful people to laugh with, play with, chat with, and adventure with. Most notably: Kirk, Elizabeth, Daisy, Ashly, J.C., Brett Jones, and Andrew. The salt of the earth truly. Each and every one of them. Saying goodbye felt a little bit like dying must. A slipping away, a departure. I believe that Daphne du Maurier expressed it most aptly in Rebecca:

"I am aware of sadness, of a sense of loss. Here, I say, we have lived, we have been happy. This has been ours, however brief the time. . . . we leave something of ourselves behind. Nothing material, not a hairpin on a dressing table, not an empty bottle of aspirin tablets, not a handkerchief beneath a pillow, but something indefinable, a moment of our lives, a thought, a mood. This house sheltered us, we spoke, we loved within those walls. That was yesterday. Today we pass on, we see it no more, and we are different, changed in some infinitesimal way. We can never be quite the same again." 

No, I do not believe I will ever be the same again. And I hope not. Change came for the better this year in ways I so desperately needed. And I am indescribably grateful to feel sad to leave another place. Because it means I can call that place blessed, I can look upon this time as a time that was good for me, not just good for my career. In the end, people became most important again which is as it should be. And once again I was able to shed tears when giving parting hugs and locking my apartment door for the last time. 

Flagstaff was as it should have been.