When I Didn't Say Goodbye

I went to a going away party Sunday. I didn't expect to cry to much, I don't like crying in front of people and normally I keep it in pretty well. But I cried. I cried so hard my head hurt. I cried till my eyes were dry and my contacts became foggy. I cried harder than I have in months, and I couldn't stop. I wanted to say something nice, I wanted to say something encouraging, but all my words got lost in tears and what came out made little sense. I talk a lot, I write a lot, I always use words to express, but Sunday words failed me, they were drowned in tears. Your heart can ache, your lips can move, but what happens when the words die and your standing in front of hundreds of people? Or in front of just one or two? When you hold them tight, when you cry until it hurts, when your words fail. When there's to much to say. When you have to say goodbye.

On High School And Graduating

As I sit here thinking of my future, of college, summer jobs, FAFSA… and so much more, I can’t stop myself from going back to everything that has brought me to this point.

As I sort through old papers, I remember all my teachers. I find a note passed during a math class from a friend and I’m back in that moment, laughing and then smiling as I remember so many other memories with them.

I find a picture tucked in a book and a wave of memories flood over me; ones of a new years party in a limo; all dressed up with my best friends, cruising downtown with windows down, music blaring, voices ringing, all of us dancing. I find another picture- in my memories, of ice skating and peppermint hot chocolate at Denny’s.

And then another floats into view; of choir tour, singing “Song of the Sea” in a booth at the Denny’s in Billings, with the incredible base note of Hugo and Amy and Jamie’s alto notes chiming in to push me higher as I sing soprano… and then Hugo’s classic onion rings arrive and the rest of the food it’s all over.

More pictures flood in of actual choir performances, some good, some bad, all of them with people I love and am going to miss. I think of the songs “Lollipop”, “Blue-Skies” , and “Oh-La-Le”, and then of Eli on the congas and his constant singing of “The Lion Sleeps Tonight”. I think about my last “real” day of high school, roaming the halls during choir because we had a sub, ending up in Mr. Sweet’s half-empty history class (due to sports most likely) and singing that song – and more – with Eli and Hugo, drawing on the chalk-board, laughing hysterically… and then high school was over.

It was graduation day, my best friends were all there, cheering me on, making faces like only good friends would do. I received my diploma, I had an amazing night afterward – hiking, going to DQ, and watching a movie with two of my favorite people. The next day I slept in – on Monday when all my friends were still in school – it felt good until I realized I’m leaving all my friends and though it’s customary to yell “suckers!” because they’re still in school, the truth is I’d rather be there if it meant being with them; eating lunch with “The Gang”, getting my lunch stolen by “The Boys”, Shane and Mark cynically commenting on the depravity of society while Shane tries to shock us with incredibly awkward comments about Ashley, all the while Cheyenne and Lizzy obsessing over their latest crush (me and Amy laughing the whole time), Christopher speaking to me in German just to irritate me, me and Eli and Amy singing (mostly to irritate Lizzy but also because we love it, ha-ha).

Even if it was in class I would’ve wanted to be there with them; Study hall with Mr. Koch and all the crazy freshman stealing “The Couch” and making fun of my hopelessness while the condescending Juniors all look on with disgust commenting that I must think I’m “one of them” , at which I can only laugh.

In Math Class, with Mr. Elsen Telling us all we’re disasters and how we need to get our lives together and stop being a drain on society- I laugh but am inspired by this crazy teacher everyone else seems to hate (granted he made a few people cry but… hey, sometimes the truth hurts, ha-ha.)

I think of History class with Mr. Sweet and his love of coffee, thick glasses, crooked nose (from his former wrestling days – which all of us find hard to believe considering his ridiculously thin frame), and hilarious stories of life growing up in Wyoming.

Mrs. Job’s soft brown eyes look into my minds eye as she prays and offers advice and love during hard times – and good – I’ve had in high school…I’ll never forget and never could I replace the love and support she’s given in so many ways.

Mr. Mesner - or “Mr. Snowman” as I fondly call him – with his bushy white mustache, his threats to demote me to freshman status, and his ever-caring and guiding hand not only as my guidance councilor but almost as second grandpa . His eyes and Mine would be a little extra shiney as we said goodbye at graduation, reflecting all the laughs and memories from my high school career but showing the depth of how much it had meant to both of us.

I was Mrs. Clawson’s only senior in her German I class, she always thought it was ridiculous I waited till then to take the “best language in the world!”. I will miss her big blue eyes, wide with mock horror as she shrieked “Kaugummi in de mund?!” and her sweet smile of encouragement.

I seriously doubt Mrs. Elsen will miss me much – she has her “favorites” of which she makes no pretense of and making it very clear when you are not one those – but I learned so much from this incredibly talented teacher; I doubt I will ever forget what alliteration or ambiguity means, or the love of classic literature she gave me.

Mrs. Douglas’ “Nanny Voice” and “Julia Childs Voice” will forever stick with me, as well as her big blue eyes staring us down and creepy smile that turns into a large ‘O’ - emphasized with hands in simulation of choking - as she screams “What is this?… in measure 32… IT’S A CRESCENDO GUYS! I NEED MORE!” but also her sweet fun-loving spirit and the long talks on the road during choir tour about proposals, boys, and “opposites”. Singing in racquet ball courts and warming up in coat closets will defiantly be memories I’m taking with me.

I think one of the greatest rewards, honor, or position received in high school – above the Rotary Youth Service Award, or being an ALA Girls State Representative, or any of the other incredibly awkward but “prestigious” honors – was Mrs. Scheiders “TA of the Month”- or months I should say – and all the fun we had tormenting the poor German exchanged student “Bob” with that ever-so- prestigious position – way more fun than long and awkward “luncheons” and award ceremonies that accompanied the other various honors, I must say.

There are so many memories from high school… some good, some bad, but most good. Actually… all good in the sense that all have led me to be who I am today and though not perfect, better than who I was. I think some of the best and most life changing would be those times spent at youth group and on missions trips, because they not only changed me but were the basis for who I became in other situations outside of youth group. So many memories… my first “MMT”, my first Spring Retreat, my first “real” missions trip to Havre, and then Denver and more MMT’s over the four years. The only thing I wish I could take back is my freshman year I waister trying to do it on my own and all the time I missed with my, now, best friends and greatest supporters – both in students and staff – aside from my family.

My family has been through so much with me and given me so much there’s no way I could thank them enough… I love you all so much, especially my two older sisters, Elisa and Janna. So many memories come to mind with my two best friends; memories of “code names”, of forts, of “dress-up”, of painting the “playhouse” and listening to super old-school music like Jump-5 and Avalon, of secretes, of tears, of laughs, of prayers, of late-night talks, of notes, of bible studies, of singing and driving Isaiah crazy =P… and so many other things. There’s something about sharing your entire life with someone that makes a bond no one can break – not even you, when you wish they didn’t know you so well they can tell everything you’re thinking, good and bad – but I never could and never want to, I love them beyond what words can say.

As I think back I realize there’s to many people to thank and to many memories to even “note briefly”. The memories keep coming, and throughout them all a common theme- good and bad- God has always been. In all of the memories, in all of the people, in all of my darkest nights when no one else is there, he has been and is and I find myself at loss, the tears make my writing run and in that river I lose all words, but two. Thank You.