“Shall I see you again before you go?” asked my Aunt yesterday. “Um, I don’t know, maybe, but probably not.”
We leave eight weeks today, eeek, and all our remaining weekends are already planned out. We’re visiting friends in Hertfordshire and Suffolk, having friends to stay, spending time with family, seeing friends in London. And that’s without trying to fit in the usual childrens parties and last minute invitations. We are going to be busy for the next eight weeks. And all our plans involve saying goodbye to people.
I’m not one for goodbyes. I’ve lived in the same city all my life and I like things to stay the same. I find it unsettling when people move away. I’m not a fan of any kind of change. So saying goodbye is hard. Knowing that all I’m doing for the next eight weeks is saying goodbye to people, is making me feel a bit wobbly.
Some of our friends we don’t see very often anyway. But as one friend said to me recently “it’s nice to know you’re there, that I can call you up and we can go for a coffee, email’s just not the same”. I know what she means.
Anyone got a tissue?