Resisting the Irish Goodbye

The Open Ending

Today is the last day of the fall/winter semester. The twelve students I have shared a Zoom screen with since late August are off to other teachers, for other writing classes. This afternoon, I say goodbye.

I hate goodbyes. Always have. I often just duck out. I mean, when we moved recently, I told several of my neighbors that I’d be back later to say goodbye but never returned. Truthfully, I had no intention of returning. I have trouble with this-is-it finality. To me, there’s no such thing as a clean break.

For days now I have been dreading saying goodbye to my students. While I get to see many of them next year, the seniors are off to college, so this might actually be goodbye. I’m getting choked up just thinking about it. When you teach the thing you love best to a tight group of like-minded souls over a significant period of time, you really get to know each other.

It’s a paradox. As a writer, I adore writing endings, but in life, I go to absurd lengths to avoid experiencing them.

But then, my favorite endings are the open ones, the ones that allow for a range of possibilities. They offer no closure, but a path (or several paths) forward.

To quote Scarlett O’Hara, after all, tomorrow is another day.

So forget goodbye. Today, I’m going with see ya, and the fervent hope that someday soon, I really will.