When I was in high school, one of the ways, often on a Friday night, that I would gently lull myself to sleep, and sometimes to sleepwalking to bed, was listening to the album “Now In A Minute,” by Donna Lewis [1]. One of the songs of that album, which also appeared as a b-side on the single to “Without Love,” was a spare piano balled called “Silent World.” The song, which certainly has a story of its own, is a goodbye song about not having had the chance to say goodbye. Even as a teenager, it was a sentiment I understood. As an adult twice the age, it is a sentiment I understand all too well on a painful and somewhat regular basis. It’s hard to understand why saying goodbye in certain situations is so difficult, but so it seems to be, on a frequent enough basis that I wonder if there is something wrong with me or if I’m just extremely unfortunate in the matter.

There is a friend of mine with whom the absence of saying goodbye is a regular gag. I’m not sure the reasons for it, but even as absent-minded as I am, the fact that even when I have said goodbye to this person over the time I have known her, it has been met generally with silence is remarkable. It is all the more remarkable because this person makes a regular point of saying goodbye to a lot of people, often people who are standing near me, but consistently and deliberately avoids saying goodbye to me. Something like that has to mean something, but what it means is a mystery to me, and a mystery that does not seem likely to be solved at any point particularly soon, given how long it has gone on. I guess a bit of mystery in life is something I have to live with.

Saturday night, when I came home from the Sports Appreciation Dinner, I found that the toiletries of two of my erstwhile roommates had been removed. Later investigation this morning showed that they had skipped out, unable to pay their share of rent and unwilling to have, however belatedly, an awkward conversation about their situation. To be sure, I have been in the place where I have been, despite my best efforts, at the end of my tether and unable to fulfill my obligations to rent with roommates. It is incredibly awkward to tell someone that one has nothing to pay, and sometimes it does not go well. That said, it is better not to pull an “Ian” and leave suddenly with no apologies and no explanations. Sometimes it’s best to have a bit of moral courage, even if one is unhappy about disappointing others.

Twice in my life, I can remember a situation where I felt that a close family member was not likely to live long. Another time, I felt that someone’s silence meant that they had died. In all three cases, there was a death without a real chance to say goodbye. Twice I ended up traveling to Pennsylvania for a funeral, and the third time I wrote the obituary from half a world away. Likewise, today was the funeral of a young man whose sudden death has shocked his friends and family, who are hopefully able to say goodbye belatedly. Sometimes we do not realize how long we have to get to know someone, or to spend time with them, and one does not want that time to pass without awareness of its precious nature.

[1] This album has been blogged about before. See, for example:

https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2011/03/17/simone/

https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2013/09/11/summer-night-air/