Print this page
FriJan14

"How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."  -Winnie the Pooh

The scene has become a familiar one over the last couple weeks. I stand in front of our kitchen window, gazing outside with tears forming in my eyes. My arms wave and my hands soon are blowing kisses to the vehicle that is slowly pulling out of our driveway. My waves and kisses continue, long after the vehicle is out of site, as if there is some small chance that the people residing in the vehicle can still see my waves; still feel the gentle kisses being blown through the air and into their car before resting on their cheeks. 

I do not like goodbyes. I am the one who does the countdown to the arrival dates. Not the one who celebrates the departures. And yet, each time I find myself with a full house, a full heart, I have come to realize, the goodbyes are an obvious and necessary part of the process.

And so, with every holiday. With every weekend visit. With every summer stay. The scene is the same. The emotions the same. The goodbyes the same, a necessary part of the process.

This week I said my last goodbye for this holiday season. It had been a whole month with a house full of a variety of people. The five boys. Two daughter-in-laws. Granddaughters. Siblings. Cousins. Parents. Friends. What a time we had. And for me, as always, it was hard to let go.

I soon found myself frustrated. Mostly with myself. As “everyone” else was seemingly excited about the year ahead, I found myself sitting in the sadness of letting go of the past year. It’s not even particular events of the past year. It’s not some grandiose adventure that I was struggling to let go of. It’s also not that I’m not looking forward to the year ahead. I’m very excited about what God has planned for myself, my family, and my friends. I think for me, it’s more like, well, just the idea of letting go of another year. Period. Does anyone relate to that?

I needed more time. I wasn’t ready to dive into 2022 when the clock struck midnight on January 1st. I wasn’t ready to head to the gym and start my workouts. I wasn’t ready to get on some healthier diet or leave sugar in 2021. I wasn’t ready to sit down and have my goals written out. I wasn’t ready to begin a fresh routine. I wasn’t ready to organize my life better. I wasn’t ready to start writing and posting on social media. I wasn’t ready to flip the calendar. 

I wasn’t ready to stand at my kitchen window and wave one last time. To blow the final 2021 kiss. I needed more time.

And God began reminding me that it’s alright to go at my pace. To take the time I need to reflect on the past year. To take time to be thankful for the many blessings of it. As well as to take time to reflect upon the challenges and disappointments.  To continue to lift up the needs of family and friends. God reminded me that regardless of if I was ready to run into 2022 at full speed, or whether I wanted to hesitantly walk into it fourteen days late, He was going to walk with me. 

I’m almost ready. I’m almost there. It’s almost time for that last wave. That final kiss. The necessary goodbye. But until then, I’m thankful I’m serving a God who is patiently walking with me, giving me just enough push to keep me moving ahead, but not too hard of a shove, causing me to trip. 

And if you’re wondering, I’m pretty positive that sugar will be coming with me to 2022. Some things just have to be rolled over to the next year. 

Misty Cramer ©2022

Rate this item
(0 votes)