Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Saying Goodbye

I have a ton of stuff I want to write about, but this particular entry I'm going to dedicate to Matt.  Matt has officially moved to Northern California, and in two short months, Alana will follow.  They came over Friday night so Matt could say goodbye.  The four of us ended up sitting outside until 2:00 a.m., next to the pond and the chimnea, gazing at the sky and talking about whether the stars we were looking at were actually still there or not, and philosophizing about other big, important things (I think).  And Matt and I did push-ups on the lawn.  Not quite sure how that came about.  This might be a good time to mention that wine was involved.  At any rate, it was hard to say goodbye.  Both Clint and Alana often joke about how Matt is my male counterpart (or I'm his female counterpart, whichever).  While Clint and Alana are more level-headed and responsible, Matt and I are more spontaneous and childish.  Clint and Alana exercise good judgment and can always be counted on; Matt and I don't always think things out completely before proceeding.  Now this isn't always true, but it is occasionally true.  The thing with Matt is he makes me feel like a little kid again.  He embraces life, and when you're with him, it's contagious.  I still remember when we were camping, at one point we started to get bored, and out of nowhere, Matt blurts out, "Hey, let's play hide-and-seek!"  So we did, for about an hour; adults and kids alike, and it was the most kick-ass game of hide-and-seek ever.  I remember hiding in the creek, and the spine-tingling chill I felt when the "seeker" started to get close, and the adrenaline rush of trying to make it to home base (a rock the size of a car), and the sensation of rocks and twigs tearing at my bare feet (seriously, why the hell don't I wear shoes once in awhile?).  The point is, I need this in my life.  My job is so heavy that there are times when it feels crushing, and I need the catharsis of playing hide-and-seek, or jumping in an icy river in November, or climbing a tree in the middle of the night, or doing push-ups in the dark on the wet lawn, or whatever.  Being crazy or stupid once in awhile is therapy for me.  It prevents me from taking life too seriously, and I come back to my responsibilities as a wife, teacher, and mother feeling so much more rejuvenated. 

Of course we will visit Matt and Alana, and they will visit us.  They've become family to us, and distance is not going to change that.  But with Matt now living so far away, I no longer have my partner in crime.  Plus there will be no more trips to the hot springs, no more silly games of Taboo, no more chips and salsa, no more birthday parties, no more late night conversations....

When Matt and Alana left on Friday night, Matt gave me a hug in the driveway and said "I'm going to miss the hell out of you Jodi."  Best words he could have left me with.  Ditto that, Matt.  I'm going to miss the hell out of you, too.

Oh, and just for posterity....

You know you're going to miss us.  ;-)

P.S.  I shudder to think about the sob-fest that awaits my poor blog in December when Alana leaves too.