Dear Sung,
It was hard to say goodbye to you for the first time in my life, but just so I don’t cry as much, let’s just call this a “see you later.” I hope you find many open doors and peace of mind, and most of all, personally experience the powerful, reckless, eternal love of God. I love you so so much.
That’s the précis of the letter I wrote to my brother. I didn’t think I was going to miss him this much, but now that his departure is only a matter of hours away, my heart is beginning to grow heavy. My brother is, in its truest sense, my day one. He taught me how to brush my teeth; how to pray before sleeping; how to play badminton; how to snowboard, which has become an annual tradition for us; how to check out books at the library; how to read, a skill that has beautifully grown into one of my greatest passions and loves.
However, don’t be mistaken; there were definitely moments when I wondered how we could possibly be related. He once threw a very, very cold orange at my face to wake me up, and also convinced me to let him pop my beloved birthday balloon with rocks. I’ve also witnessed his tumultuous relationship with our parents. Yet, in the end, he made sure my face wasn’t bruised, hugged me after wiping my tears, and showed me how to forgive and apologize. He took care of me and was present for me as my wonderful brother, and for that I am so grateful.
Yesterday, I not only said goodbye to my dearest brother, but also to my childhood. That sounds a bit bleak by itself, so let me explain. As I was packing up my belongings, I came across old clothes, planners, and yearbooks. An old flower dress I found was a memory of my first grade Hawaiian dance with my old friends, but also a reminder of the difficult times my family went through financially. The notes left in my junior high yearbook ranged from a simple acknowledgement with “H.A.G.S!” to a sweet message from friends with whom I am thankfully still in touch. The journal entries allowed me to compare my past to my present self and let me say that yes, character development is real.
For better or for worse, change and saying farewell is often necessary. Without it, we would get too comfortable, and as they say, familiarity breeds contempt. I do not mean that we should disregard a sense of security in our relationships because to feel connected, to be wanted, and to know that you belong are the feelings that melt your heart – the “fuzzy” feelings, for lack of a better word. However, when we get stuck in the routine of things with the same attitude or similar interactions with peers, we frequently forget to look beyond our internal circumstances. I’ll be addressing this in the next post, but for now, I’ll conclude by saying that risk is more often than not recommended and change is worth embracing because after all the tears are shed, you’ll be left with a feeling of immense pride in your courage and your capacity to grow.
As Written by Lois 