We have a missionary leaving our ward this week (the bishop's oldest son), so church was totally packed out this morning with Bill's high school friends and families that used to live in our ward but have since moved out into bigger homes in nicer neighborhoods. (It happens.)
It was like old home week.
The high school kids reminded me of the time in my life that my friends and family were leaving on missions and we'd travel to be there for their "farewell" talk, and the families who'd come back to visit the ward reminded me of good times I've had with those women in the (almost ten) years I've lived in this ward.
It was kind of surreal, but in a good way, to have memories and emotions from two totally different times in my life converge. I spent all of Sunday School in the chapel, having a mini-reunion with the families who were visiting for the day, and hearing the chattering and laughter of teenagers behind us, as Bill's friends gathered around him, one last time.
It's been a while since I've had a day where I felt like so many conversations I was having were good byes, but today has been full of so many of those. I'm sure that part of that was brought on by saying goodbye to Bill, who I'm so glad I've been able to watch grow up... he's a great kid, and will be an awesome elder. But some of it is that... frankly, I'm not well.
Between saying goodbye (literally) to Bill, having my sweet little old lady friend, Ruth, reach up and out of her wheelchair to pull me into a hug, and being (albeit temporarily) reunited with so many people who used to be a part of my weekly (and sometimes daily) life, just made today... more real than a lot of other days have been lately.
I don't really know what I'm trying to say. I don't feel like I can find the right words to make this make sense to me, let alone anyone else, but I needed to document this day for my own self. It's so weird to know that you're sick in a way that you don't have a guaranteed outcome, to know that your time with the people you love might be shorter than you want it to be. Usually, the lack of control over the length of my life is just a punch that I roll with. (Because, really, who knows how much time they have? Uh, no one.) I make the choice daily to make that day the best that I can, and I don't generally feel like I have a certain number of days hanging over my head. But today... today has been different. Not bad, just different.
Just know that if you're reading this, I love you. I'm glad you're in my life. That, at some point in time (maybe even now), you've been part of my daily, weekly, monthly, annual self, and that means that you're part of who I am. Thank you, and I love you.