As the days wear on, and visits come and go with extended family members, friends, others (don't ask who fits in that category...haha), I think often about my own leaving. It seems I will miss my family more than I at first thought; it's as if things are already breaking down, getting ready for my departure, which is only months away. Now less than half a year ahead, I have things to write, money to earn, and trips to go on...all the while watching time dwindle away. The advantage my older brother has to going to a college just six hours from our house is that, for Easter weekend, he can come by even for just a couple days, and things seem right-side-up again. I'll not be able to pop in for a weekend; sure, there will be summers, and Christmas, and Easter breaks—but what about in between? The ache is worst at parting, and things swing back quickly to where they are. The more goodbyes I take part in (and we all accumulate them quickly as we grow into adulthood), the more I realise that as much as things affect us, life is utterly, unashamedly relentless in its pursuit of the next step. I don't have time to mourn the parting of family right now, despite how awful it feels; right now I have three different assignments to finish, bagpipe to practise, supper to eat, bills to pay, and sleeping to be had—before work starts again tomorrow. I'll say this, 90° weather isn't the best for doing anything, either. Can't walk, can hardly sit at my computer—the heat pouring off it as it is. I sit in my room feeling listless, desiring some distraction, and finding none. For a very brief time, the moments after saying goodbye pass in agonising slow-motion. Then we go on and the feeling begins to pass until the next one.
Occasionally, I look at the resiliency of humans, myself included, and wish things had longer-lasting effect. It doesn't seem right to move on from goodbyes, either temporary or forever; yet though some losses are forever, others heal and scar and are visited occasionally, sometimes even with tears, but the greater part of the time lie buried in our minds. There is a quote, from either the Bible, a book, or maybe both. It may be at first related to Jesu's own words recorded in more than one of the Gospels, in which he said (and I paraphrase), "My business is with the living, not the dead." In the same way, our own business lies with what is living and active in front of us, not with regrets and past experiences and goodbyes. Did God create us this way? Did we gain this resiliency and urge and necessity within us to move past pain as a curse or blessing after the Fall? I honestly don't know. I think it's both blessing and curse, all rolled into one.
If I've seemed melancholy, forgive me; I am exhausted from very little sleep the past week, emotionally worn from watching my cousins and brother take their departure this afternoon, and feeling sick probably due much in part to this heat. Plus, there's always other things crowding around in my head, waiting their turn to be thought and dwelt on. I must say honestly, in closing, that distractions are sometimes the human's only means of survival from an emotional disaster. Without pushing the pain to the back, it would sit and fester. So thank God for distractions. They are a lifesaver.