Goodbye To You

It seems like just last week I was hanging out with my college friends; now I find myself only talking about them and the times we had. A figment of the past. And I wonder when, if ever, I will see most of them again. I'm not old enough for this, I think. But something about husbands and seminaries and grown-up jobs and moving to far off places brings the reality of the situation into perspective. I still don't feel old enough, though, and certainly not ready for any of it. But then again, when are we ever 'ready'? Most of the time, if not all of the time, I think that time chooses us; we don't choose the timing. It's more like, when opportunity presents itself, we must choose to rise to the occasion, or else, maybe in fear, choose to let it pass us by, knowing not what could have been. I think Shakespeare said it best: "We must take the current when it serves or lose the ventures before us."

Someone once told me a very long time ago that life is made up of goodbyes. I thought it quite rude and incencitive at the time, but having gained a few years, I think I'm starting to understand their point. But I wonder, if life is full of goodbyes, why should I not cling to the 'now' as tightly as possible, because I know not when it will pass? Or maybe it's just about enjoying and appreciating the 'now,' and having the grace to accept when it's time to say goodbye, looking onward to the next 'current' of life, for I know not the joy it may bring. Or maybe it's a little of both. In either case, I still hate goodbyes.