You Just Never Know

I'm really bad at good-byes. I suck at them. I hate them. I remember every summer, when I was living with my mother but spending summers with my grandparents, having to say good-bye to them and how hard it was. Whenever I had to go back to California, I missed them so much.

Two of my earliest memories are of the day my mother and I left for California. I was five. I had not known anything other than living with my grandparents and that kind of safety and security. I felt as though I was being ripped away from everything I knew and loved. Pretty insightful for a five year old given that was exactly what was happening.

I remember quite a lot from that time, probably because overall it was so traumatic. I remember the day I was playing outside, drawing with chalk on the sidewalk and I looked up to see a car that looked exactly like my grandparents' car. I remember getting up and running toward it, literally screaming, "Oma!" The woman sitting in the passenger seat of the car, probably terrified of this wild child running toward her, rolled the window up. I still remember the pain of it, thinking my beloved grandmother was there, and then realizing it wasn't her at all. As I write about it, I can feel it all over again.

I eventually went back to live with my grandparents full-time, when I was eleven; six miserable, horrible years later. In the meantime, I had spent summers with them, and every time I had to say good-bye was like reliving that day when I was five years old all over again.

I remember, with regret, every time I drive to DIA, the last time I saw my mother and how distant we were that day, what a hard time it was for both us. I never would have dreamed that would be the last time I saw her.

Almost without fail every time the boys and I part, we hug, kiss, tell each other we love each other. Tonight I did not. I was in a hurry, they were downstairs, I didn't even say good-bye. I regret that. If, God forbid, something happens to any of us while we're apart, I want the last thing we've said to one another to be "I love you."

I remember when my grandmother was so sick that my mother and grandfather thought I should go to California to live with my mother again. I didn't know how I felt, but seeing my grandmother in so much pain day in, day out, was more than I could handle at sixteen, so I went along with what they thought was best. I don't remember the last time I saw her. I don't remember. I don't know how that is possible. I don't remember. I don't remember.

I was very active in church at the time, in a youth group, and a "folk" choir, that many of my closest friends belonged to as well. That last night, before I moved back to California, I sang a solo called, "Lord Watch Between." I still remember every word.

Lord watch between
You and me
For the time we're apart
Turn our eyes and our hearts
Toward the future

While we're away
May he bless you
And keep you safe within his love

May he lift his face
Grant you his grace
That you find comfort
In this place

Lord, watch between
You and me
For the time we're apart
Turn our eyes and our hearts
Toward the future