Saying Goodbye

When we moved her 11 months ago, it never occurred to me to think about how it would feel to say goodbye. Or, if it did, it was the thought of us saying goodbye to Bowen. But last week one of our dearest Bowen families moved back to Ontario.

We met the Longs right after we moved here, at a mutual friends pool. And then our two oldest kids (being 3 and 4 makes "oldest" seem highly relative) were in the local Montessori school together. We mum's got to know each other in Mum's group each week. And relationships, all good ones, grow and change. Our families became families together. Got a need? Call Gina and Andrew. Need a play change for the kids? Call 'em up. Bust a lung? Call up the Hansens. It went both ways, and it was lovely. Community at its absolute finest.

But many good things must come to an end, and while I would have wished it be have been later rather than sooner, I wouldn't give up those 10 months of friendship. So, last Wednesday, two moms and three kids ran alongside the ferry line up, waving goodbye to a mom and a dad and two kids. Then we stood on the pier and waved and screamed goodbye as they waved from the ferry sundeck.

Remembering clearly the day I stood by a flapping Canadian flag, wind in my face, Snug Cove before me, awaiting whatever adventure Bowen Island might hold for us, I thought what a sad sight it was, watching a family do the same in reverse.

Saying goodbye is hard.