"The saddest things in life are separations and deaths."-Jenseits der Stille
In the therapy process, patient and counselor broach the subject of the end of treatment a few sessions before the last session. I'm finding that this approach works well for real life, too. I don't know what it says about me that it's taken me this long; at 28, I've moved over a dozen time in my lifetime. You'd think I'd be an expert at "goodbyes" by now.
A month ago at the Machon, I attended my last staff meeting. I always liked the staff meetings because, between the spoken Hebrew and the ISL, I could understand most of what was being said. This meeting, though, they opened with a goodbye: mine. The director of the Machon, Yael, briefly went through the work I've done with them for the past two years and said a formal "thank you". Then they gave me a 3D book of sights of Israel, which is awesome except for the page with the tank which is kind of frightening cause the barrel of the tank comes out really far and you kind of feel like it's going to take your eye out.
The nice thing about this goodbye, though, was that it wasn't really a goodbye. I was still in Israel for the better part of a month, and still coming into the Machon regularly. But it started the process and got me really thinking about leaving, and what that means: how do I maintain ties with people, what more do I need to get out of my time here, what have I already gotten out of it.
I got my haircut for the last time at the French barber shop. I chatted with my barber and told him I was leaving. He made me promise to come get my haircut there when I come back to visit. I visited with my friend Dvora, a CODA and author, and she said she was really going to miss me when I went back. It was hard to even begin the process of leaving.
And here I am in my last week. The goodbyes are continuing, some harder than others. I have to say that I'm glad I started the process so long ago; it makes the insanity of the last week that much easier, both practically and emotionally. Not to say that I'm leaving scot free; there has been plenty of angst and heartache as I say my final להתראותs to people. Not "goodbye", just "see you later".
I owe Dvora a lot for, among other things, starting me early on the "goodbyes". The sadness of leaving and the excitement of returning to the US are almost more than I can stand as it is now. But that's just the way things are. Sometimes life is just sad כך, and we muddle through it best we can.
A month ago at the Machon, I attended my last staff meeting. I always liked the staff meetings because, between the spoken Hebrew and the ISL, I could understand most of what was being said. This meeting, though, they opened with a goodbye: mine. The director of the Machon, Yael, briefly went through the work I've done with them for the past two years and said a formal "thank you". Then they gave me a 3D book of sights of Israel, which is awesome except for the page with the tank which is kind of frightening cause the barrel of the tank comes out really far and you kind of feel like it's going to take your eye out.
The nice thing about this goodbye, though, was that it wasn't really a goodbye. I was still in Israel for the better part of a month, and still coming into the Machon regularly. But it started the process and got me really thinking about leaving, and what that means: how do I maintain ties with people, what more do I need to get out of my time here, what have I already gotten out of it.
I got my haircut for the last time at the French barber shop. I chatted with my barber and told him I was leaving. He made me promise to come get my haircut there when I come back to visit. I visited with my friend Dvora, a CODA and author, and she said she was really going to miss me when I went back. It was hard to even begin the process of leaving.
And here I am in my last week. The goodbyes are continuing, some harder than others. I have to say that I'm glad I started the process so long ago; it makes the insanity of the last week that much easier, both practically and emotionally. Not to say that I'm leaving scot free; there has been plenty of angst and heartache as I say my final להתראותs to people. Not "goodbye", just "see you later".
I owe Dvora a lot for, among other things, starting me early on the "goodbyes". The sadness of leaving and the excitement of returning to the US are almost more than I can stand as it is now. But that's just the way things are. Sometimes life is just sad כך, and we muddle through it best we can.
4 comments:
Be prepared for random people in your Israeli life, like that barber, to remember you whenever you visit again. Although we lived there for only nine months a few years ago, every summer we go back to find that everyone remembers us. I don't mean just the obvious people--friends, neighbors. I mean the brothers who run the laundry, the French people running a restaurant, the health food store owner, hotel keeper, fruit stand guys, pizza place guys. Each is genuinely pleased to see us again. It's so surprising that it only takes a few minutes each year to maintain these connections, yet living in the same neighborhood in DC for 12 years has led to no such connections.
Thanks for keeping this blog!
Kelli
And having lived with the experience, forever shaping you now and in the future... the lives we touch and the people who touch us wholeheartedly... May this transition bring you peace as a piece of this will always be with you...
So hard... Make the most of every moment and look forward to new adventures. Memories and pictures are powerful ways to stay connected with the past. Good luck with whatever you are doing next!
*tear* Dan I am SOOOOOOOOOOOO proud of you! You've done some awesome things over the last two years. The "see you later" and "welcome back to the U. S. of A." will be trying time but I know that if ANYONE can muddle through it and look like a rock star, YOU CAN:) You will be a new person because of it. We love you Dan and I can't wait to give you a million hugs and kisses and you know I am here for you and will do anything for you if it makes your transition easier:)
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