There is a time for making friends, and there is a time for them to all leave you behind. That's what it's felt like recently, at least. In the years leading up to this point in my life, I've welcomed so many people to experience my journey with me. They've come from everywhere- school, church, camps, neighborhoods, soccer teams, grocery stores, Italy- name a place that I've been and I'll tell you that I've probably met a friend or two there. And it's a fantastic feeling to see someone, smile, strike up a conversation, and ten minutes later feel a bond begin to grow. It gives me a glowy feeling inside- like there's a sunrise in my lungs. And to be able to watch that sunrise turn into a full on summer day with that certain person? It's indescribable. I love my friends, long story short. They are the peanut to my butter, the Federer to my Wimbledon (do NOT choose this time to bring up that he lost first round this year. I am still recovering from that one), the swing to my step and the marshmallow to my fire pit. They complete the already happy things.
But, as well all know, all things have an end. These endings accompany their traveling buddy Time, and the arrival of these pals is something that we cannot avoid. We can try to deadbolt our houses and cover up our windows and bubble wrap everything near and dear to our hearts, but it never works. Time has the master key to all of our lives, and it can do with them what it pleases. I've felt that quite a bit this summer. It's been wonderful, it's been beautiful, it's been filled with hikes and pools and adventures and laughter, but it's also had its unfair share of goodbyes. It all started with graduation...
...And that is how I felt about graduation. I mean, it was great, it was exciting, I threw my little cap and I sang the fight song and I smiled at my cute, cheering family. But as I watched my classmates walk up on that stage and wave and get that piece of paper that signifies that they are ready and allowed to move on with their lives- ugh. That about killed me. I felt as if they were waving right at me and saying in sing-song, mocking voices, "Goodbye, Sam! Have a nice life! See you never!" It hurt my heart. And that was goodbye number one. Then, there was Giacomo.
My spicy little Italian meatball was the most unexpected friend I've ever made. I mean, who sits down before a school year begins and thinks "Well, this year I'm gonna meet a way cute kid from Italy who will become one of my best friends and go to a dance with me where we dress up as a Rabbi and a Nun and win the costume contest and then we'll have dinner with the missionaries and make pasta together and just be so happy around each other."? I'll tell you the answer to that otherwise rhetorical question. No one does. But I got lucky enough to have that scenario actually work out. He's back in Italia again, as of a week after graduation, and I miss him. Terribly. We were close, but I think the main reason it makes me so sad to think about is because it's the first time I've ever said goodbye forever to somebody. I've never hugged a friend and thought, "Wow. Never again will I see you." But that's what happened with Jackie Moon. And I still can't quite wrap my head around that fact.
Then, there was (and still is, I suppose) the whole missionary situation.
See all those boys? All the boys, in all those pictures. Take a nice long look, admire how handsome and wonderful they look, and then close your eyes and pretend that you never saw them. Done? Sweet. Welcome to my life. THEY ARE ALL LEAVING. Every last one of them. Jason? New Zealand. James? Romania. Derek? Australia. Josh? Taiwan. AJ? Boston. Dallin? El Salvador. Taylor and Matt and Chad and Adam and other non-pictured boys? Soon to be determined. Am I proud of my friends and the amazing decisions they have made up till this point so that they can serve missions? Oh, so proud. I'm just not quite ready to say goodbye yet. I feel like there is so much left to do! So many places left to go and things to see and conversations to have with them. Just give me a few more weeks, months, years, maybe? Can't you see that I'm losing all of my friends over here? But, like I said, Time has it's way of getting what He wants above me getting what I want. And I guess that's just they way it's supposed to be.
To me, each summer has a theme. Something that infiltrates every inch of life that I experience in those three, too short months. Sophomore year was the summer of newness. Junior year was the summer of expansion. And this summer? My own grand finale? This is the summer of goodbyes. Goodbye to my friends, goodbye to life as I've always known it, goodbye to the Sam that only existed within the confines of her home. This isn't a see you later or till tomorrow sort of deal. This is permanent. This is undoable. And I only have a few more weeks to finish it up neatly and move on. And that, I suppose, is what scares me.
