One of the inconvenient things about moving to North Dakota is this: it’s weird to tell people “well, if you’re ever in North Dakota…” Most people don’t go there, so goodbyes have a certain ring to them that feels a bit less promising and bit more hollow than moving to other, more familiar, places.
I’m glad to not be moving right away; it makes a lot of goodbyes a lot gentler. Other goodbyes are never gentle: when parents bury their children. We’re off to a goodbye of just this sort, keep all involved in your thoughts and prayers, please. When we return, it will be a time for another, less poignant goodbye ritual: graduation.
Lots of goodbyes. Some fake as they come, others more real than you can bear. All of them basically suck.