*I dedicate this to my friends. I cherish the time that I had with one of my best and most dearest friends, Payton Jade Dahl--affectionately known as PJS--even though it only was for around 10 months. I thank God that He has given me friends and times to cherish.*
Third Culture Kids [TCKs] experience a multitude of struggles throughout their life. A major one being culture shock -- conditions of their new home, drunkards on the streets, stray dogs, squatty potties, etc. There is also always the “new church again" time of their life, the constant language learning, and the thought that they are always the outsider. But, if I had to pick the worst obstacle to overcome in this blessed TCK life, it would be the goodbyes. As a Missionary kid, I’ve experienced hundreds, if not thousands of hellos and goodbyes. I’ve been through the, “Hey, I just met you...” too many times to count and after each of those introductions, I know a time would come where I had to say goodbye again.
Before I was a Missionary Kid, to me, goodbyes meant I'll see you again later. When I became an MK and my parents moved us to Moldova, goodbyes began to mean that I might never see them again. Moving to Moldova, I was leaving everything that was familiar. I was leaving some of my friends in the little Montanan town of Harlowton. I was moving to the unknown and saying goodbye to the known. Then Moldova brought more goodbyes. I got to know embassy families and missionary families. I had friends whose ages ranged from one years old to 70 years old. I had friends that had come from all walks of life. They would be here a couple years and then leave, and once again, a goodbye was always inevitable. My friends were leaving again, who did I have now?
As a TCK, I found a sense of security in knowing which families and friends would be there for an extended amount of time. My Dutch friend, Noa, and Brazilian friend, Nina, provided a stability for a while. We were just three girls, from three different countries, living in this new country, unlike the one we had resided in before. We formed a bond for four years, giving each other the feeling of safety. And then they left. Their families moved back to their passport countries. I was left alone in Moldova with no friends to turn to. I cried out to God because He had taken away that sense of security. He then sent Sasha. The first time I got to know her was at youth group--she asked us to pray for cat who might have kittens. It never did. But a friendship was formed. We became close friends fast because we knew she would be moving within the next year and a half. I enjoyed our time together and then sobbing when the time had come, I said goodbye. Of course, it was not a permanent goodbye for all three of these friendships. I got to visit Noa in Haarlem. We laughed and talked and basked in our short time together. Sasha and her sisters had the opportunity to come out to my house in Minnesota and spend an entire week of pure fun with us. Those were times that I cherished.
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After living in America this past year, the time came where I had to say goodbye. There were people that I did not want to say goodbye to. The last night of youth group came and as Pastor Adam called me up to pray for me, girls flooded in around me. I thanked God for all these girls that had been in my life. They had touched my life in different ways and I had touched theirs. I could think of four of these girls that I had come to love. I had no desire to say goodbye to them. And leaving them all was so hard. I knew I would not have a youth group once I came back to Moldova. I knew I would not have a group of girls to hang out with in Moldova. Those last few days, as I spent time with my friends, I enjoyed that time. I again thanked God for everything He had given me, but saying goodbye was so difficult.
One of the most difficult good byes I ever had to say, was nine months ago. My 10th grade school year started off so grim. We had moved back to America for the year and it was hard. I really had no friends. I went to school each morning grudgingly. I went through the day robotically. Choir in the morning, then English, then biology, on and on it went. I smiled at the people in the hallways, but I didn’t fit in. I tried to make friends, but no one actually became an actual friend. I was so lonely. One month into my time in Cold Spring, I went to Minnesota Youth Convention. I was looking forward to the time, but scared about who I would hang out with. As the buses left the parking lot of the church, I remember praying, “Lord, please give me a friend.” And so I began to get to know the girls sitting around me. One of them, I realized, was from my biology class. Of course she was the one that I thought was weird and somewhat funny. Her name was Payton. We talked, she did my makeup on the four hour bus ride, and then we said goodbye as we got off the bus. We did not talk much at MYC--just a couple of “hellos.” Little did I know that I would get to know her in the coming months.
We began to get to know each other in biology class. Payton and I got along amazingly. I had a friend. I had a real friend and she was amazing. We were two peas in a pod. We sat next to each other in Mr. Loomis’s American History class and in Public Speaking. If there was ever an assignment where one needed a partner, we were there for each other. We would write each other letters every week. As I reflect on all these times together, I can’t help but ask God why did it have to end. You see, as with most relationships I have had, as it comes closer for me or that person to leave, they begin to pull away and sometimes completely cutting of the relationship. Payton no longer talks to me. I still pray for Payton each night. I write her on Facebook, wishing that she would write me back. Anything would be better than silence. I don't think that the time we had together was useless. I showed her Jesus that year. I showed her happiness and a great friendship. I wasn't trying to get Payton to become a Christian. She wasn't another notch on my belt. She was my friend. A true, amazing, and wonderful friend. Those letters she wrote me were not lies. We did love each other as good friends should, but constantly questions run through my mind: “Why has she forgotten me? Why can’t that wonderful friendship continue? What about those promises of letters and Skype calls every week? What happened?” I hated that goodbye because somehow I sensed that it would be final and that made it the hardest goodbye I ever had to say.
These last months have been filled with goodbyes. I found out I was moving to Russia last August. So many goodbyes to be said here in Moldova, with one week left. I have to say goodbye to all my precious girls at Freedom Home. All the little kids that I have come to adore and love.
Last fall, some hard-hitting news came. One of my best friends and her family, missionaries to Russia, were moving back to America. The day they left Russia, I broke down. Because they were truly leaving. It was permanent. Then my mom had to read me this great article about “The Lies MKs Always Believe” and of course it had to do with saying goodbye. I spent the rest of the day with a sense of melancholy over me. I couldn’t deal with these goodbyes. I was saying goodbye to great friends, to close friends, to my accomplices in crazy adventures.
Sometimes I don't know how to deal with these goodbyes. Most times, I wish to be alone. I just want to cry. It is the most difficult thing anybody goes through. Saying goodbye is so hard and there is nothing worse than being asked to pretend like it isn’t. Sometimes the easiest thing to do is just to express one’s emotions. Whether it is one goodbye or hundreds, they all are the same and they all hurt.
I've made a new goal. I want to be someone who says, “until next time,” instead of the closing statement, “goodbye.” I want to say, “see you soon,” rather than, “maybe we will meet again someday.” I love the French words au revoir because it means “goodbye until we meet again.” However, during the time I have with my friends, comrades, and buddies I’m not going to anticipate saying goodbye quite yet. Instead, I’m going to hold onto the time I have. I’m going to enjoy the time I have with my friends. I’m going to laugh, smile, and simply love them and the experiences. I’m going to relish in the time that God has given us, whether it be nine years or nine months. Because those are the times that I need to treasure. Those are the times to cherish.
