Let's not say goodbye

I walk slowly along the shore line.  The dark blue waves crest then curl over themselves before they break in a white foam that reaches for my feet.  I don't want to move too far into the power of the sea where my steps become unsure.

I can feel the edges of it coming closer, touching me.  There exists this certain sadness that I don't want to fully embrace.  I fear that if I give myself to it, it will overtake me and I will drown.  The thought catches in my throat making it hard to swallow.

I have spent the last week with the people who have grown me.   My father, my mother, my sisters, our families. We have had so much time to sit and talk about nothing that matters, and somehow that means something when you know these moments will be fewer and farther between.  We have laughed and loved and eaten too much food, sipped on coffee that no one could brew just right, scolded children, teased our patriarch and laughed even more.

There is no longer a year left.  Not months or even weeks.  I can count down on my fingers the days before we leave for Nicaragua.  We have talked about goodbyes, but I have already decided that won't be a word we should use, nor should we look at each gathering or occasion as the last.  Always we should enjoy the present, enjoy the presence, and hold hope that there will be more moments such as these in the future.

And until that time comes, we will hug our farewells and say again and again "I love you!" because no matter where we are or what we do, that is the one thing that will never move.