Today I am struck by the transience of this world. As I begin to face goodbyes, I realize there are people who come into our lives, rub against us, nestle up to us, and then disappear, perhaps never to be seen again. I have friendships from college that I know will never end. But there are other faces I have come to love—professors that have mentored and invested in who I am, fellow writers I have sat next to in class for at least four semesters—and once I leave this campus I don’t know if I will ever see them again. Some of them will move from my life and I will hardly blink. But others, I feel this stab of loss, sense the desire to linger a little longer.
I don’t believe the human heart was ever created for separation. We don’t have a place in our brain to process the gaps completely. We just learn to cope, move on. Train our hearts to steel themselves and take another step.
I never fully understand what I have until it’s gone. I’ve seen these faces every week for years and taken them for granted. But now, I want to touch them, remember their faces. I want to acknowledge that they have touched me. And I wonder just how much our fingerprints will linger on each other’s souls. I wonder what God had in mind when he sent us all to be in the same place at the same time. I wonder about transience, and if it will all have a point someday.
And as I wonder, I mourn. I’ll be saying goodbye to someone or something nearly every day for the next twelve days. It’s hard. I want to just skip the end, jump in my car and leave it all behind. But I don’t think I can. I’ll carry it with me, in form or another. So I have to stay to finish and say farewell and hope for see you later. I have to experience the pain, and then let God heal my heart to carry me on to something new. I have to know that I am changed.