The Goodbye Season

May and June is the Season of Goodbye.

My mom taught in the local public school system for 29 years. I'm a college graduate and coming to the end of my third year of seminary and working towards a masters degree. Rarely does a year go by when I don't know someone who is graduating from somewhere. Thus, the academic calendar greatly impacts how I mark time. Perhaps that explains my feeling that May and June have more goodbyes than any other two months of the year.

The last Episcopal Divinity School class of the semester happens in two days. For some of my classmates, this means the last class, ever. (Not me, though: I'm doing an encore by taking two courses in June.) Meanwhile, this is my last week at St. Michael's Episcopal Church, Milton, MA. In a mere nine months, St. Mike's has become a beloved community, a place of comfort and challenge, and an important part of my formation to parish ministry. There are so many "mini" communities in a parish, and so many that I have immensely enjoyed at St. Mike's, that the farewells must be spread over several weeks. The same at EDS - there are so many relationships and subgroups within the wider EDS family that need hugs and acknowledgment.

Alexander Graham Bell once said, "When one door closes another door opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us." In one sense, Bell is right that dwelling on the past can prevent us from fully experiencing the present. One might say that Goodbyes are Hellos looking backwards.

At the same time, I admit to feeling the lure of that closing-door trap. Did I appreciate being surrounding by fantastic people at EDS and St. Michael's? Did I have the conversations I needed to have? Did I take an active interest in the lives of the people around me, or was I too preoccupied with the to-do list? Am I really facing the reality that some of these wonderful folks I will never see again, and most of the other relationships will change once I leave?

These are scary and important questions. For now, I don't have the luxury of time to reflect - I've got papers to write so that I can graduate. That said, within my constraints, I hope to follow the advice of my seminary colleague Stephanie and say "good goodbyes" these next few months. Loss is hard. Saying goodbye to friends, acknowledging the loss of their company, is hard. The one farewell I eagerly await comes on July 1, when I can say bye to the Goodbye Season.