"You will be a better mom because you are a theologian, and a better theologian because you are a mom."

Is it true? In this blog, I explore the interplay and intersection of motherhood and theologianhood.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Unsaid Goodbyes

Our little family made it safely to New Jersey after quite the whirlwind of packing and cleaning. It was a full day's work out, from 9:30 to 9:30, and we drove to Cleveland after a quick meal at the Guizzo Cafe. The time spent with Grandpa and Nana somewhat delayed the realization of our transition. Although Maia knows we're moving, she still asked why we weren't going back to Dayton. We've tried to stay really positive, focusing on how much she's going to love New Jersey - a beach, a zoo membership, swimming lessons, (hopefully) preschool, etc. But I admit it's hard to stay positive when I, for one, really do feel kind of lonely and sad!

One of the things I was thinking about in the two days of driving out here (with the husband and I in separate cars) was about all the unsaid goodbyes. To most of our closest friends, we managed to say goodbye, even if only provisional "see you later" kind of goodbyes. But then there are other people who became a part of my day-to-day life without becoming close friends. I usually think of people that I pass by while I'm running or walking, or people I run into at the gym. For example, the older lady whose name I never learned, but whose dogs are named Oliver (he's blind) and Mocha. She really became a familiar face in the past four months during my morning runs. Perhaps I have particularly warm feelings toward her because she always complimented me on my running speed and how much weight I'm losing (neither of which are impressive, let me tell you!). But nonetheless, she's probably wondering where I've been and when I'll start running again. Maybe she thinks I gave up. Maybe she saw the moving truck. Regardless, she'll probably forget me pretty quickly now that I'm no longer a part of her daily life.

Then there are all the parents that go to Orchardly Park. I've had a lot of company from my classmates (and/or their spouses) lately, but there are also other parents who I see (and sometimes chat with), two or three times a week. Maybe someone will think a "whatever happened to..." Or maybe they won't. It's hard to say.

Don't get me wrong: it's not that I mourn that people might NOT be missing me. It's just weird to think of the transitoriness of life, that I can see that retired couple smoking on their front porch every morning for five months and then never see them again.

It was hard to say goodbye to my friends, and it was hard to watch Maia say goodbye to hers. It's also hard not saying goodbye to all those people I'm so used to seeing on a daily basis. At least the friends know what has happened, and are hoping for the best for our future. Many of them we will see again. But I feel like all those unsaid goodbyes deserve some kind of explanation. Ah, well, such is life in the modern world!

1 comment:

Jana Bennett said...

Aw, we miss you here, too. Joel took Lucia to Cox Arboretum and was recalling the time we went there with you.

Glad to know you made it safely though!