You know that scene in “The Parent Trap” (the one with Lindsay Lohan) the scene where Dennis Quaid and ‘Hallie’ are saying goodbye to Natasha Richardson and ‘Annie?’ It’s raining, it’s sad, and that Ray Charles song is playing in the background, “Ev’ry Time We Say Goodbye.”
It sums up everything I feel about leaving people. (PS, can we reflect on how much we love that movie? Is it just me?)
I dropped a friend of mine at the airport last week after a blissful weekend with my college roommates (turned best friends.)
It’s a weird place, airports. One of the only places you can feel fulfilled in one instance and empty in another.
Nothing beats the excitement of arriving at the terminal — But leaving… That’s another story.
I always wonder if the people embracing each other next to stacks of baggage are staying or leaving.
Every time I left my grandparents after a holiday when I was a kid, I would cry for at least 30 minutes afterward. (They lived 10 hours away.) I thought I would “grow out of it” one day, because it was childish, I thought.
But after 24 years, when I say goodbye to close friends and family, that Ray Charles song plays in my head, and I cry.
After I dropped Emily off I was struck by the fact that airports were a whole lot like life.
You come, you go, you stay, you leave. People arrive — and they depart.
The arrival is sometimes euphoric. But inevitably, (unless you’re Buddha) you spend some time dreading the moment you have to go.
I enter relationships that way: Hesitant, and dreading the moment we have to part. Which is pretty depressing, I know.
But don’t all good things have to come to an end?
I think about some of the greatest joys in my life: Writing, cooking, music… Those good things will never end.
The same goes for people.
Though some people will leave – In a furious drama, or just as quietly as they came. They will leave you, nonetheless, better or worse than they found you.
But the ones you bond with inexplicably, the ones you don’t understand life without — The ones who become a part of you without even knowing it. Those people are here to stay.
Though maybe not physically.
This silly needle-point picture hung on the wall of my grandparents’ house before they both died.
I took it with me because it reminded me of my grandmother, who was hilarious, giving and tough.
She held us together, pushed us out the door — And told us that we should never, under any circumstance, chase a boy. It was hard for my family to say goodbye to her 3 years ago. But though she’s gone, she’s still with us, encouraging us to make the world brighter, just by being in it.