How do you say, "So long for now?"
I don't have an answer for that question.
My dear friend Amanda Rogers is leaving for India. She'll be gone for two years.
She helped me escape from psycho-roommate, we wrestled in front of White Hall on campus, we moved all my possessions across campus in a rolling office chair, she was in my wedding- we've had some unforgettable times.
I have to admit, these last few years I've been entirely too distracted with being a new wife. I unwittingly neglected my friends far too often. Now that I'm realizing and correcting that mistake- now that I seriously can't wait to see her and truly cherish the little pieces of her valuable time that she carves out of her incredibly busy life to see me- she's leaving for two years, and who knows where I will be when she returns? Chances are, it will not be South Carolina.
What makes it worse is that it's not just her. It's everyone.
Most of my friends are graduating in May. Some will be leaving the country as well, some will be getting married, some are having children; but no matter what they are doing, the point is that we are all changing, moving, rearranging life. These next four months will be the last of their kind: when they are over, everything changes. I don't know if I'm ready for that. I haven't had enough time with these amazing people, and I desperately desire more time, more talks,more hugs, more laughs, more everything. But that won't happen.
Thus, I am determined to cherish every second I have with them.
The ironic thing is, I though college was my growing up process. Now I know, it was just the prelude.
I've enjoyed the prelude, as frustrating as college has been at times. I'm slightly terrified of what comes next, whatever it may be.
 


I think this is slightly more eloquent that my post....

Dear, Sweet Amanda,

I’m not really sure what to say.  We’ve talked about you going to India for so long- like little kids talk about college and marriage- and now that it’s happening, I can hardly believe it’s real. I know in a few months, when I need a long, deep conversation or the ear of the wisest friend I know, I will long to see you and hug you- then it will be real, and I will wish I had grieved sooner, when you were still there to hug.

My heart tells me to be sad because there has not been enough time, enough hugs, enough talks. But I could be with you every day and it would never be enough.  I cry mostly selfish tears for myself; for you, I cry tears of joy. You are going to India! Your heart will finally be home! Oh my friend, how wonderful! How good and great is our God! I rejoice for you, and though I will miss you, I know you are going where they need you much more than I do. My heart seems to burst with happiness for you when I think about how your dream is being realized, and that makes it hard to be sad anymore.

I don’t know what else to say, except that I cry as I write this because I love you, and it is hard to come to terms with the fact that I don’t know when I will see you again. I two years, I will most likely be very far from here, trotting down the path that God seems to have laid for me very far from South Carolina. But I will love you the same when I see you again, whether it be in two years or in twenty, and I will pray for you each day whether you are down the road or continents away.

God with God, my sweet friend. Thank you for sharing yourself with me these last few years; it has been a blessing.

Love,

Cahill

 

"Hazy, clear streams
of your perspiration
dripping off my nose.

"Gritty, smooth river
of my tears
pouring from your eyes.

"I live you.
I breath you.
We are two.
Individuals.
But we are one.
One heart.
Two bodies.
Kindred spirits.
United souls.

"Pricked;
your blood
spills out of my veins.

"Tickled;
my laughter
flows from your voice.

"I feel you.
I see you.
In my dreams
even when you are far.
We are two.
Individuals.
But we are one.
Two bodies.
One heart.
Apart sometimes.
Together always.

"Hazy, clear.
The rain falls upon me.
The sun shines down on you.
Gritty, smooth.
I climb the mount.
You descend into the vale.

"Laughing, crying.
Living, dying.
We are two.
But we are one."

...Ah, the things we write in youth that we find in adulthood that make us laugh in a bitter sweet way because now we know. I had such crazy notions of love when I was 15. I thought it was as easy as a cute grin and a few poignant letters. I keep the memories of years flown by locked in my heart, though they don't make me cry anymore. Perhaps someday I'll bring them out again and show them to my daughter, and perhaps she will understand those things that I did not... There will be a moonlit swing ride, a long, tearful walk around the block, a first kiss I said  no to and regretted, a real first kiss I didn't enjoy...but then again, maybe I'll keep these things locked up longer still, and bring them out only when she has found true love herself, and has had her own share of heartache, and knows that a soul mate isn't the angelic being of dreams, but the gritty being that digs down into everyday trenches with you, and shares his war rations when things get tight. Then when I take them out she'll know that I'm not trying to ruin her chance for a teenage lifespan filled with angst, but rather that I know as well those secret things that twinkle in her eyes. Then she can cry on my shoulder and I'll cry too, because we've both been young brides with our issues to work through. On days like today, when my pantry is bare and my patience has run dry, I look forward to these things. And I look forward to her own high school poetry (may it be a hundred times better than my own).