The Real Goodbye

After I accepted my new position with World Dairy Expo, there was, as one would assume, a moment of pure exuberance.  I was beyond thrilled to start a new life in Wisconsin with one of the most prestigious companies in the dairy industry.  But not long after, there was a moment of sadness (in fact, as I called one of my best friends to tell them I had gotten the job, there were tears in my eyes and a crack in my voice).  Why on earth would I be sad about this fantastic opportunity?  Logically, there is the initial reaction of leaving family and friends behind and the fear of change, but for me there was more… leaving The Children behind. 

As an individual who literally grew up within the confines of the National Jr. Holstein and Brown Swiss Associations, 4-H, and FFA, these groups have become part of who I am.  They have taken me around the country, influenced what I pursued academically, provided me internships and jobs, and have provided some of my most treasured memories and achievements I have in my life.  That being said, the work and time I have put in with the kids as an advisor and leader over the past sixish years has made a bigger impact on me than any of my own youth involvement possibly could. 

Upon my return from Madison, the whirlwind of preparing to move began.  I rode a pendulum of emotional mood swings… happy to sad and back and forth again.  But, in all honesty, I was too busy to really focus on either end of the spectrum.  Time slipped by, dairy bowl practices passed, packing took place, dinners and coffee dates to say goodbye filled the calendar, and all the preparation for a move went down. 

With two days left before the mass exodus, there was one dairy bowl practice left; picture day actually.  In the days leading up to it, I was filled with dread.  This was the last time I was going to work with my kids.  I say “my” because well, they are mine.  I am protective of them.  I am proud of them.  I get annoyed with them.  I love them. 

Practice came and went, and we headed to the river for pictures.  After pictures began

2013 Convention Group - sans a few kids

the awkwardness of leaving.  Who was going to leave first, what do you say, what do you not say?  With fewer tears on my part than I had anticipated, we got through goodbyes, with me reassuring The Children we would be seeing each other in just four short weeks at National Jr. Holstein Convention.  I knew that Sunday would be tough, but was planning for the next day to be way worse.  I know how my brain works, and staring at 2,100 miles of open road was going to give said brain time to wander, roam, and think entirely more than it should. 

Goodbyes said to my parents, Starbucks in hand, and a kitty who was entirely too excited to ride shotgun, I was east bound and down.  What’s this though?  No tears?  Not a single tear the entire way from Seattle to Madison.  I was as surprised as you.  Seriously, I figured I would drip, at minimum, all the way to Spokane. 

So, this brings me to this past Friday.  Perhaps somewhat of a blessing in disguise, I was stricken with a wicked migraine Thursday night and as a result did not get up at a ridiculously early hour of the morn to drive back to Madison from Indy.  This all allowed me the opportunity to say goodbye to The Children.  More goodbyes said and The Children herded in the direction of the shuttle, I headed down to the parking garage.  A good friend accompanied me.  Choking back tears the whole way down, I loaded Trucklette, we said our goodbyes, and I headed for home.  This time however, with the reaction I expected four weeks ago… not in mid-July.

This pretty much sums up our relationship

From Indy to the Illinois line, and sporadically on the way to Wisconsin as I traveled north through Illinois, there were bouts of tears.  It finally donned on me.  What I was telling The Children to get them through that Sunday in June was really more for me than it was for them.  Those weeks have passed, and this goodbye was for real.  No smiling giggly faces to come see me in another month.  No kids to keep me on my toes.  No one to do stuff for, fill out paperwork for, to keep track of, to chauffer around, to care for.  This one is for keeps.   

I LOVE my job, and KNOW this is the place for me.  But I saying goodbye to those kiddos is by far one of the hardest things I have done thus far in my life.  They are in absolutely capable hands.  They will be just fine.  They’ll grow and learn and mature and become amazing individuals, all without me.  But, they will always be mine.