“I hate to go and leave this pretty sight! Doot do do do doot do do do! (Which is beluga whale for ‘Run! The Nazis are coming.’)
What we talk about after our workout: Butt blisters. Creepy come-on lines. Potty training. The salt content of cruise-ship food. How to make your own tutu. If pink weight lifting gloves are cute or a cop out. And of course, the daily discussion of What’s For Dinner. (Grand prize goes to the lady who thought ahead enough to both buy the special ingredients and remember to put them in the crockpot that morning. The grand prize being, naturally, kids that whine about every bite. But hey she has the admiration and envy of all the other Gym Buddies!). The fetid stretching mats have been the site for many a strange, awkward and hilarious conversation amongst the Gym Buddies and I over the past six years. It’s one of the things I’ll miss most when I leave (in less than two weeks – not that I’m freaking out about that at all. Noooo.).
But the other day, it got serious. It was just Allison and I and it started because we were talking about the terrible pain of saying goodbye. I hate saying goodbye. I hate it more than I hate jumping pull ups. I hate it more than a long run with no music. I hate it more than I hate ceiling fans. Heck, I even hate it more than I hate swimming and you all know how much I hate being wet and cold! Saying goodbye is an inevitability that I honestly haven’t wanted to talk about much since we first found out (a week ago – not that I’m freaking out about that at all. Noooo.) that we are moving from Minnesota to Denver, Colorado. It hurts too much. And the best way to avoid that pain is to pretend that it isn’t happening. Every day as we leave the gym I say to my friends (for they have all become so much more than gym buddies), just like I always have, “I’ll see you later!” And I mean it.
But the other day, Allison called me on it. “When?” she asked curtly. I gave her a watery smile. “I’m sure I’ll see you again… sometime.” She raised an eyebrow, “Like…?” And then I said one of the dumbest things I’ve possibly ever said to her. And I have said A LOT of really dumb things to Allison. “Well, there’s always the next life!”
I didn’t mean it to be glib – my faith in the existence of a great After has been one of the most powerful driving forces in my life (in fact, the LDS “Mormon” concept of what happens after we die may be the thing I love the very most about my religion, it is so perfectly hopeful) – but it came across that way. This may make you think I’m as annoying as a TV with only one channel showing The Real Housewives 24/7 but here it is: Sadness makes me philosophical. Not because it gives me answers. Because it gives me perspective. And when you’re hurting perspective is really the only thing that helps at all. (Well, that and chocolate.)
Allison looked hurt. “What- in heaven?? I hate that answer. It doesn’t make any sense. Are you just saying we should kill ourselves now? Because if Heaven’s so great then why doesn’t every just kill themselves to get there?”
See? Serious.
It’s because, I think, that then we’d short circuit the process designed to make heaven. Not that we make our own heaven, per se, but that what we learn over our lives increases our capacity to experience and appreciate the heaven created for us. Heaven isn’t a prize handed out like a trophy to the person that has endured the most, rather our sufferings only enlarge us if we allow them to change us. And they change us by hollowing us out, creating a space wherein to hold the blessings. Pain gives us context and without context joy is meaningless. You can’t truly appreciate “having” until you know the heartbreak of “losing”. Yes, I know I should have gone into country music songwriting. Missed that boat along with the one for becoming a professional fake mustache maker. (Seriously, I’m gooood at fake ‘staches. It’s a gift I discovered after trying out for the high school musical and failing so miserably that the only thing the director could think to offer me was Makeup Artist in Charge of Fake Facial Hair for Boys Not Pubescent Enough to Grow Their Own. I was in the program and everything! Plus it was the closest I got to the really popular boys’ lips during my entire academic tenure.)
But see? There I am avoiding it again. I’d rather talk about my hellacious high school experience than talk about saying goodbye. I hate saying goodbye.
Yet it’s often the things we don’t want to do the most that we need to do the most. (Like swimming, maybe?) I have to say good-bye to all the wonderful people I’ve met here. People who have loved me through mental illness, through pregnancy, through euphoria, through pride, through pain, through the breadth and depth of the human condition. These friends have been my rock. And proving, again, that they know what I need even when I don’t, they ripped the band-aid off for me: On Saturday Turbo Jennie coordinated a surprise last Turbokick/farewell party for me. To force me to face my fears. To give me a chance to say good-bye. To let myself cry.
And cry I did! (Go big or go home, I always say!) No cute, tear-stained cheeks for this girl – it was full-blown Boy George mascara tears and sobbing. I started crying when I got to the gym and saw everyone (even old friends that have long since stopped coming to my Y) dressed up in tutus, in my honor. I cried when I saw they’d written “We’ll miss you tutu much!” in marker on the studio mirrors. I cried listening to each carefully picked track, realizing how well Jennie had to have known me to have picked all my faves. I cried watching Allison next to me, the girl who has been next to me for every Great Fitness Experiment for almost 7 years, and realizing that soon I would be standing alone. Again. I cried when they played Josh Groban’s “You Raise Me Up” at the end because they know it’s my favorite (don’t judge!) even though everyone else haaates Josh Groban. (True story: when it started playing with its characteristic bagpipes, Ted yelled out “Are we at a farewell party for Charlotte or an Irish funeral at sea?!”) I cried when I saw the cake that said “Happy Trails!” as if I were a pioneer setting off on the Oregon Trail (only to die of cholera in Colorado – I hated that game!). I cried so hard I was nauseous and then couldn’t even eat the cake.
All that heaviness that’s been on my heart the past week, finally let out.
Then, doing my best to further unnerve my already tweaked children, I cried all the way home, cried through my shower and cried until I had to take out my contacts because my eyes were getting so swollen I was worried I wouldn’t be able to find them. At last I laid down – next to Jelly Bean to help soothe her to sleep. I don’t usually do this but little sister knows that things are messed up right now and she’s taken to crapping her pants five times a day in response. (Fun Kid Fact #49: Kids under stress will revert in whatever developmental milestone they’ve been working on. Yay for reverse potty training!) Trying to comfort her that she was safe and that I was here, I put my hand gently on her back. As I did I felt all the hands of all the people who have loved me resting gently on mine. The weight was reassuringly heavy.
Everyone will leave you eventually. Whether through death or circumstance, it is an inevitable fact of life. But where some may see this pain as reason to never open themselves up to love again, I see it as all the more reason to love people while you still have them. It doesn’t take away the pain but it does give me perspective. Will I get new Gym Buddies? No. These friends are special and irreplaceable. But I will meet new friends and I will love them. I hope they will love me too. Because, as Jelly Bean drifted off to sleep, secure in the now, I realized that I could only cry so much because I love so much. It is a gift.
I still don’t like saying good-bye. I’m still really bad at it. And I’m still going to say “I’ll see you later!” and mean it beyond the meta. (I’ll come back to visit!) But at least now I remember that there is just as much love and hope in good bye as there is pain and sadness. (Plus I also remembered that I’m not dying. And neither are they. So, you know, there’s that.)
How are you at saying good-bye? Have any tips for me? How do you cope with sadness – do you get philosophical too or turn to some other outlet? Lastly, what do you talk about after your workout??
I’m excellent at good-byes. Growing up military, and then marrying military, you do the good-bye thing so much, you don’t skip a beat. Probably because it really is a small world and I do end up running into people again. And, if they’re important enough to me, I visit or they visit. I have a harder time with making new friends!
I felt bad for your cryfest, though. I’m a sleeper. If I get bummed (like throughout the entire 9 month Wyoming winter), I just sleep all. the. time. I actually had to make a deal with myself that I’d get out of bed every day and do at least one productive thing. Pray that we get stationed in like, San Juan or back to Hawai’i 😉
Aughhhh. I feel your pain so much! I HATE that you’re leaving. I’m practically in mourning with you. I mss your friends and your home and Minnesota too.
I think that it will get better soon though. Once you get busy and in your new place, the pain will ease up. Right? Right? Tell me right!
It will be ok though. You can communicate with your friends so easily now. It won’t be the same, but it will be certainly better than nothing. And I think saying “See you later”! Is definitely okay to say and think.
I’m the opposite, I LOVE moving from one place to the next. I’ve lived in four different countries and 6 different cities, and I can’t wait to move onto the next place. The downside is that I don’t really have too many ‘strong’ friendships, but I do have lots of acquaintances throughout the world!
“I realized that I could only cry so much because I love so much.” What a great line, and anyone who has the chance to say “hello” to you and know you in person is so, so lucky. You’re all heart, lady.
As for me, I’m kind of stoic and the Ice Queen at times, so goodbyes for me are something I deal with without too much emotion most of the time, at least externally. They usually hit me later, in the quiet moments, and not at the moment of departure. I just take them as a part of life. However, that doesn’t mean I don’t still get a little teary when I DO know it’s a final goodbye. It’s the sudden ones that kick me in the gut, as I don’t have time to prepare.
You WILL make new friends and new buddies and new routines. They won’t be the same, but that’s a good thing. It’s a new adventure for your all 🙂
It hurts my heart that you’re leaving. Like, a lot! You were my first church friend! When I met you I knew I could be LDS and still be awesome (I was worried I’d have to “drink the koolaid…”)! We’ve had bonfires, we’ve had play dates, and we’ve over shared together… a lot… I’m going to miss you and your family! Minnesota will not be the same without you, and neither will my heart, since part of it is moving to Colorado. I’m really glad we got to “Rave” together Friday night! I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, as long as I’m living my Charlotte you’ll be! (So many tears!!!)
Not really on-topic, but when I was little, I used to think that song said “So long, farewell, my feet are sayin’ goodbye!”
I hate to cry in front of others – maybe it has to do with working in corporate for too long where tears are a sign that you’re weak. You’ll find me keeping a stiff upper lip until I get home and have a chance to let it all loose.
My dear, sweet, AWESOME Charlotte – I have NO DOUBT hat you’ll find friends and great adventures for your family in Colorado. We’ll all feel raw and less than whole for a while but we can rely on phone calls, Skype and texts to keep in touch. And even if we don’t talk as much as we’d like you can be sure that you are thought of often and loved always.
Have to go now because I’m crying at work! 🙂 Love you!
Aww, goodbyes suck. Sorry you’re having to go through that.
I am finding though, as a frequent mover, that good friends stay good friends, even if nursed along by email, FB, phone etc; also, people travel! And move! And you may find yourself living in the same ‘hood again, in THIS life. It’s happened to us, so I know it’s possible.
Doesn’t make parting any less sad though, take good care of yourself!
Oh, Charlotte. 🙁 I’m so glad I could be there on Saturday, even though it was so hard. You’re such a beautiful person, inside and out, and you’ve touched so many lives. I had a hard time with your tears, and even more so with Jennie’s. It’s hard to see people you know are SO STRONG when they’re vulnerable.
I moved a lot when I was growing up…never living in more than one place for longer than 18 months from the time I was 9 until I was 16. Looking back, it doesn’t seem like a very long time, but in the midst of it, it seemed we would never settle down.
There’s a Patty Loveless songcalled How Can I Help you to say Goodbye?…it’s the epitome of country music…best friend leaves, husband leaves, then Mama dies…and all of our friends will make fun of me for knowing it, but I wanted to share part of it with you because it feels appropriate.
“Through the back window of a ’59 wagon, I watched my best friend, Jamie, slipping further away. I kept on waving ’til I couldn’t see her, and through my tears, I asked again why we we couldn’t stay.
Mama whispered softly, ‘Time will ease your pain. Life’s about changing, nothing ever stays the same.’ And she said, ‘How can I help you to say goodbye? It’s okay to hurt. And it’s okay to cry. Come let me hold you and I will try. How can I help you to say goodbye?”
Love you, Charlotte!
Love that song…
We are kindred spirits. I would have been just like you. Goodbyes are tough. I don’t know if living on the road has made it easier or harder. The goodbyes never end but so do the hellos! You will get through this and as time passes God will continue to reveal His plan. I’m excited for you! (((hugs)))
Good luck Charlotte! You will get through this and you’re right, it’s okay. I just had my own round of crying so much about moving that my eyes were still swollen when I went to work the next morning. (We’re off to DC in July.) Thanks for putting it all into perspective.
Oh we move a lot too – just around the state, but it’s still moving. I am horrible at making new friends, so I don’t really do the “goodbye” thing much. I usually only have made 1-2 friends when we leave each city. If I made awesome friends, I’d be much sadder, I’m sure.
Also, add me to the ugly crier club. Even if I’m just “tearing up,” it’s nasty.
Oh, woman, I feel this so hard. I studied abroad in college, and leaving my abroad school was absolutely wrenching. I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. What helped: books. Reading all the books. Doesn’t matter how silly they are. Just read books. Also working out helps, and cooking complex meals that result in creamy comfort food (roasted mushroom spinach lemon risotto for one, anyone?). It took me a while to adjust, but you always do. It’s like hope for the afterlife: just hope that God has a plan, a place, and a pal for you, everywhere you go. Just trust in him.
And my friend Becca was my gym buddy when we studied abroad. We live in different states now, but we still text each other “WORKOUT CROTCH” when we have that proverbial gnarly feeling down south post workout. It’s a very lady-like way to say, “I’m thinking about you!”
Well, why are you harking back to the pioneer times where it literally meant you would never see friends/relatives once you’ve moved? There’s such a think as planning a glorious Girls Weekend. There’s such a thing as skype. There is such a thing as cell phones. There is such a thing as $59 each way plane tickets. There is such a thing as letter writing (old-fashioned but oh so lovely.) No reason for goodbyes to be so painful unless you really honestly have no intention of seeing anybody again. or staying in touch.
I really don’t mean to sound harsh.
What wonderful friends you have!! They knew that you needed help with the Goodbye and I love the way they all helped you (even though you cried cause sometimes that is the best thing)!!! I hope that even with the craziness of getting ready to move you have lots of quality time with your gym buddies in the next couple of weeks!!
Speaking as someone who’s moved a lot, I think goodbyes may be harder for those left behind. The person leaving is going off on a wonderful new adventure, while those who are staying have to cope with a gap in their lives. I’ve always found it preferable to be the person who is leaving. Having said that, it’s still never easy and I’m a big believer in crying it out. Sometimes the thought of change is worse than the actual change, and phones, internet, and planes all help bridge the gap. I’ve gone for long periods of time (20 years in one case!) without seeing people who used to be great friends and was astonished when we were able to pick up our relationship as if no time had passed. You will keep your old friends and make new ones–true connections are resilient. I hope your move goes well, and I wish you all the best in your new home.
I completely understand where you’re coming from. I always say the wrong (or most awkward) thing (for goodbyes/condolences/etc). I cave under the pressure of trying to convey all that emotion with a few simple statements. But if it helps you at all, know that the people who love and understand you don’t mind one bit. It sounds like you have wonderful friends who both love and understand you and will absolutely make the effort to sustain those friendships. Imagine how much fun visits back are going to be. Try to forgive yourself for not always saying the perfect thing/being perfect (easier said than done I know!) at least you haven’t reverted back to pooping your pants 😉
it’s funny to me how whatever you are blogging about pertains to me as well throughout the past 7 years. We are preparing to move cross country in 2 weeks as well and I haven’t attempted to start saying goodbye. (except i had to talk in church yesterday) I kind of avoid them because i think its easier to just leave and not say goodbye but it’s not. It leaves you with unresolved feelings and gaps. Jut pull the bandaid off and say the goodbyes. maybe you could write the ones down that are just too hard to speak.
oh this made my heart hurt!! I can’t even imagine the pain of having to leave such awesome friends that you have there. Big hugs to you and your family!!!!!
PS: Denver is getting an awesome family! next time can you pick my city??? 😉
I don’t mind goodbyes if they mean going somewhere new. I would much rather be the one saying goodbye, than the one left behind. I know it’s dorky, but Facebook has been a godsend for me when living away from family and friends. You’ll probably still be able to keep up with what everyone is having for dinner 😉
HUGS!!!! It all is good because the tears show how wonderful your friends are & what great friends they are – feeling comes with the consequences of this – dang it! 😉 I say feel & know that it is the good times & memories that you will never forget & thank god you had them.. we read about them.
I moved a lot as a kid so as an adult it is different. No, not good with goodbyes & sadness – sometimes I want to ignore or not feel but eventually it hits you so best to feel it & just do what feels right for you..
Oh you poor thing! I hate goodbye’s too! You will come back and visit them all I’m sure! I know it’s not the same, but as you said you’re not all dead or dying immediately, so there is that. Try to enjoy your time with them, rather than focus on being without them, because you can torture yourself the last few days. But cry, let it all out! THere are new friendships around the corner! And I’ve no doubts you’ll hang out with your gym buddies in MN again! Tutu’s and all!
*sniffle*
Oh, lady.
What wonderful friends you have!
It sucks to move away from the people you love–
but they are still your friends, no matter where you go.
Me too, I don’t mind goodbyes as long as it is me who is leaving. You then have a trip to look forward to.
Though as a kid it is really hard for them, don’t know why cause kids seem to make new friends pretty quickly.
The people that matter never leave you forever.
🙂
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