Goodbye's Such a Hard Thing to Say

I went to the Baptist church this weekend. The last time I was there was three weeks ago, and it was a difficult day for me. I went to first service, and about a half hour in, I was hit by an overwhelming sense that I was at the wrong church, but it was by then too late to leave and go to liturgy. A few of my friends stopped me that Sunday because I was clearly not ok. The next week I ended up at liturgy instead. Last week, of course, I went to no church at all.

Today I figured I'd try again, hoping that I could possibly alternate or otherwise not complete the switch until New Year's.

Not so much.

We weren't through the first song today when it hit me again. I managed to hold it together while Big Brother Pastor spoke, but as soon as he was finished... Wouldn't you know it, I ended up sitting on the floor in the back. Nothing new there. But I was crying. With actual tears. I had to get kleenex! This is not normal for me. And it wouldn't stop, either. Oh, it would for a few minutes, but then I had to tell my friend. I told four people, and each time, I started crying again. The last was the hardest- Big Brother.

So today was my last Sunday at the church that's been home since I was fourteen. Part of me wishes this part wasn't so hard. Just typing it is bringing the tears back again. But another part of me is glad for the pain. It means that I actually do value the people I won't see so often. It means maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to hold up my end of those relationships.

I'll be out of sight, though, and we all know what that means. I can name a few people who won't forget me. At least three of the four I told are on that list. But I should just expect to drop off some people's radar. That's just the way it works. But after fourteen and a half years, that'll be hard, no matter how it comes.