The first time we meet someone who turns out to be someone who ends up staying in your life for a while, is most often memorable. We meet thousands of people throughout our lives. Many we remember, others not at all. The butcher, the chemist, our school teachers, friends and neighbours. Life is a constant parade of people. With every meeting, every introduction and hello, there will be a goodbye, a wave, a handshake or something so much more. I want to talk about the Goodbyes. The Endings. The goodbyes you saw coming and the ones you did not.

The problem with me is my memory. My memory is attuned to the sentimental. The painful memories are stored in a chip inside my sentimental brain and despite being quite full, it continues to scan for potential material to save. It works hard on preparing to capture all data associated with any upcoming goodbye. The associated data is the vivid snapshots of how those chapters between ‘hello’s’ and ‘goodbyes’ pan out. They snap, snap, snap a continual sequence of happy moments, sad moments, quotes, fabrics, scents, smiles, tears, emotions, hair catching the sunlight or blowing in the breeze, rosy cheeks, expressions, hurtful conversations, happiness, loneliness and the list goes on. Whilst my brain actively gathers information, my heart and hands retain things…hard copies…hand written letters, cards, texts, dried flowers, cut hair, clothing, photos…anything tangible. My hands type and scrawl all these memories onto paper, into the computer, mobile phones, videos and cameras. If I lost my internal data, there will always be some written content to refer back to.

For some reason, I imagine loss to be a feature of my life. More loss than gain. More goodbyes than hellos. I wonder if I’m one of the few who feel this way, have experienced the same sense of people leaving. The leavings become more apparent as we grow older and the room begins to feel empty. Fewer replacements are coming through the revolving doors. The goodbyes are piled high and the hellos are thin on the ground. I grew accustomed to the leavings from a young age. I’m not sure why I accepted the temporary nature of things. I guess its why I’ve clung with all my might to the regulars. My parents, my children. I learnt early that friends are transitional and boyfriends never stay. The old people I adore will die and now the young people…my children will leave. It’s inevitable.