The Summer of goodbyes

As summer in Verona comes to an end and the jackets and closed shoes find their way out of the gloomy wardrobe and lie scattered on my bedroom floor, memories of the last season come to mind. Apart from summer being a strange time for friendships anyway – people are away, you’re away, the city is flooded with tourists and events and “normality” doesn’t really exist. Summer 2018 for all its hot evenings and cool glasses of prosecco will be remembered as a summer of goodbyes.

None of this has come as a surprise. Over the last few years I’ve experienced the slow drip of friends leaving Verona, heading back home, following new dreams, old dreams, partners, careers. And walking round the small city can seem like a graveyard of memories where friends used to live and we’d hang out. But this year, 2018 has definitely seen a exodus of friends leaving this small Italian city.

Close friends that have made Verona what it is. Friends who’ve enjoyed discovering cool bars, restaurants and getting lost down tiny, crooked alleyways. Friends who’ve never made me feel embarrassed by making huge language or cultural mistakes. Friends who made those mistakes with me. Friends who’ve grown up with me in this city and have so far shaped my “adulthood”. And friends who have made Verona feel like home.

As well as the difficulty of saying bye to friends, if I’m honest, there also comes a moment where it’s hard to see them go, not just because they are no longer here and moving – but that they are moving on. Moving on to something or somewhere better, brighter, “greener”. And the sobering thought that they aren’t just leaving but that I’m the one being left behind.

It’s easy to fall into the mindset of “Ok, that’s enough, I’m never going to make a new friend ever again, because one day, whether it’s sooner or later it’ll be time to say bye”. But… as old friends depart, new friendships quickly bloom.

This summer alone, I went wine-tasting with someone I met two days prior. We had a blast and though she was only in Verona over the summer then heading back to sunny California we became great friends sharing smoothies, stories and life together these last 3 months.

I also had a week in Germany, volunteering at a huge christian event for teenagers. While I was there mainly cooking, topping and serving waffles, I had the pleasure of meeting some brilliant, amazing and wonderful women. As the week came to an end I wasn’t angry at myself for having to say more goodbyes, but I was happy and grateful for having had the opportunity to be open and vulnerable with these women who became great friends.

My friends are a mixed bunch. People I’ve known since I was at school, those I’ve studied with, had my first night out with, lived with, known for years, known for months, live near, live in inconvenient time zones. Some younger, some older, some the same age. At one stage or another I’ve said goodbye to most of them but did we stop being friends – heck no! While it’s hard not having some friends close by, knowing that they are there at the end of a telephone or ready to host me at the drop of a hat is incredibly comforting.

Would I give up making a friend knowing there was a goodbye coming? Of course not.

In the words of Winnie the Pooh:

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”