Goodbyes

Lately we've been having a lot of them. First Stella left for the winter last month. Jacob is still asking why she had to leave and when will she be back? I think he's finally accepted it, even though he might not understand. He likes to talk about how she'll come back when the snow melts (what snow, right? We haven't had any here yet). Jacob also likes to talk about how we'll be able to go back to the little amusement park we go to when the snow melts. We'll be able to go back to camp when the snow melts too...geeze, a lot of things in our life revolve around 'when the snow melts'.

While these 'seasonal' goodbyes are temporary, there are others which are not. Last week we said goodbye to our friends Idona, Mark, Maya and Ian. Maya is four and a very good friend of Jacob's. Even though we knew when we met them 2 1/2 years ago that they weren't here for good, we got attached. I started preparing Jacob a few weeks before the actual goodbye part, but I don't know who it was harder for, me or him. I guess moving across the country is just such a foreign concept to me because I've lived in the same town my whole life.

When we were at Idona's a couple weeks ago helping out whatever way we could with the packing process, I overheard Jacob ask in a sad little voice, "Why do you has to leave, Maya?" She answered back and they had a whole little conversation about it completely independent of me. It was heartwrenching.

We're also on borrowed time with Danielle and her kids. Bella is probably Jacob's best friend, and we've enjoyed watching the kids go through the stages of development side-by-side. Just in the past few months they've really been playing together a lot; quite well, I might add. It's nice to have friends you feel so 'at-home' with, but sad that soon it will be a long-distance sort of friendship because Home to them is someplace other than here.

Soon Kevin will be off to get his PhD somewhere far away from here so he can become a famous autism specialist. We've just gotten back in close touch this year. Bonding and intellectualizing over late-night phone calls will still be possible, but no more visits in Keene. Not that I see him that much now, but it's just nice to know your friends are near, living their lives in familiar places and an impromptu day trip is never out of the question.

Nevermind my high level of attachment which makes goodbyes incredibly difficult, throw in the fact that Jacob has also grown close to these people, and I find the bittersweetness almost unbearable. I am sad for him because I know he's not going to remember most of this stuff that is his life right now. He'll be older and will have almost no recollection of any of these parts of his life. Jacob has this amazing level of understanding now and has become so aware and really cares about stuff, and it kills me that his three-year-old self is going to be lost to the world soon.

I think of what I remember from when my father died, and it's not much. I was three times Jacob's age when it happened, and I can't even come up with a three dimensional impression of my dad. I feel like a traitor that I have let that hugely important time in my life slip through my fingers like a handful of sand.

Up until now Jacob's entire existence has taken place under the umbrella of my being. Now he's beginning to exhibit his free will and it is so unmooring to be on the outside of this process. He is a little person who has opinions, talks to people, makes up stories - who can no longer be completely soothed by my meager attempts at explaining the world. Soon he'll begin to work out his own answers. I wonder if, like me, he'll see each beginning as a goodbye waiting to happen.