You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don’t know why you say goodbye,
I say hello—The Beatles
Today when I was walking my dog past the elementary school, I saw a boy I know from the neighborhood crying. I 
asked him, “What’s wrong, pal?” Sobbing, he responded, “I stepped in dog poo.” I sat him down and removed it with a stick. The boy was thrilled that it could be fixed so easily. He thanked me and ran to meet up with the rest of his friends. I watched him walk away with his buddies and began to cry. Weird, right?
I am sensitive at the moment because I am going through a breakup. It’s been a long time coming, and probably the slow nature has been making it all the more difficult. It is at times torturous as I watch and wait for the end. I find myself pining for the days when we were each other’s “first thing” that we thought of when we woke up; when our days were spent filled with unique adventures; and when I was responsible and in control of every ounce of their happiness.
Yes, I said “their”—would you believe I am in this intense relationship with not one but two very unique individuals? And they are both in no uncertain terms establishing a more distant, less dependent relationship with me. They are slowly “breaking up” with me.
Before you judge me as some hussy, let me confess. Yes, I do have two love interests; their names are Dylan and Reagan, and they are 17 and 15, respectively, and they are my children. About a month ago, it really sunk in that they are beginning to make the break.
Oh, they are kind about this growing independence, and I think a little nervous too; however, I can tell they are very excited about new freedoms and experiences—ones that will not be WITH me but instead told TO me (perhaps even years after they occur ☺). For 17 years, my husband and I lived every experience with these kids. We were focused on every school event, sporting event and social event. I even gave us a clever name: The Core Four.
I recognize that for a very long time my children have validated my existence. You see it feels great to be needed. Knowing that someone else’s happiness can literally be created by you is an awesome feeling. For 17 years, I have held the “happiness power button.” But soon enough, kids figure out how to get poop off their own shoes, or handle a devastating sports loss or friendship squabble without you. They are better for it, ABSOLUTELY, but am I? Not so much. But I am getting there.
The May issue has so many good reads, but I feel like the article “Midlife Purpose Search—You Are Not Alone,” is a timely one for all of us as spring hands us new goodbyes— goodbyes to school years, to kids going off to college, to the loved ones that have passed, to houses that we have outgrown (or have burned down), and goodbyes to some personal journeys we experienced this winter. We must remember that goodbyes are often needed so that we have room to say hello to new things. Hello May, hello midlife, hello possibilities … hello, hello.
Malama Pono!
Kelly Martinsen, Publisher
