tim’s thought property

This post has been in the makings and musings for the last day, and now it’s the first of a few re-caps from my brief vacation.
This whole day has been a long experiment in the act of saying goodbye; the art of letting go, and continuing on. Can it be that everybody has in them this desire to be with someone who is so meaningful and fulfilling that to say goodbye in any form is impossible? If so, then I am right on the ball. So is she. We have a habit of long goodbyes.

As we sat in Drumheller eating our picnic lunch, I was stuck in thought. I was in a moment of contentment, and everything felt right and proper and in its place. As we went to the museum, we had a great time. As we talked some more, the chiseling away of our time and our own continual excavation of our own lives seemed reflected in the hoodoos of the Badlands.

The closeness of her to me was what I was going to miss the most, the ability to be comforted by someone’s presence, and that alone was invaluable. Words can fall to dust, in the end; there is something innately reassuring and peaceable about company.

Airports have this sense of great love and longing, I find. There is something deeply emotional about these places. The constant Arrivals and Departures; gates for cheerful reunion, gates for sad separation; tears of joy and sadness flow forth in these ports. As we checked in for my flight, we were close and silent, holding one another’s hand in the reluctance to let go. As if suitable for the mood, the Starbucks had some love songs playing, appropriate to our feelings.

In the relative emptiness of the Airport, she and I were struck dumb with silence. There was the constant feeling of the end, as the digital clocks slowly robbed from us our last minutes together. As we sat together, close and sad, I had a thousand words running in and out of my mind, all too futile to say. What can you say at this moment? Nothing that can stop a departure. No, there was no way for a cinematic ending, wherein the plane stops and we can run to be together, as the screen fades to black.

As I stood in line at the customs checkpoint, we had our last embrace. Nothing I could say would even begin to stop her tears, so I said nothing. That last touch with great reluctance was how we parted, and I watched her in her descent down the escalator, and turned only when she was gone.

When I took my seat on the plane, I thought about how I had been sitting beside her all week, and now, there was a vacant spot beside me. And as I pictured her driving home and being sad, I finally begun to cry. As silent and restrained as I could, I let my tears spill out, as I ascended upwards and eastward. I closed my eyes for the entire flight, being forced to let go.

There is something deeply sentimental about departures and arrivals. They hold in their power the wellspring of hidden feelings that aren’t shown everyday. In the act of leaving or the act of reunion there is something so deep down that surfaces, something so strong that comes to light. It shows you how much you love someone.