How do you say "Goodbye"

With every passing day I come closer to the "end." With every look at the calendar, I realize that my days here are numbered. There is so much left to do still, but so little time to do it ~ and that is not meant as a cliché.

When is the "last time" a last time. One "last" trip here, one "last" visit there. Meet up with this friend one "last" time. Go to this store, one "last" time. For old times' sake, eat here one "last" time. I want to hang on tighter, but it is falling from my grips. I cannot hold back time. I cannot make it go slower. I cannot stop what is coming. Will one more "last" time be enough? Will one more play date make a difference? One more of this and one more of that? Will one more make the departure less painful? Will it make the pain more bearable? Or would it make any dent at all?

What difference does it make at this point in time to see this or that person? To eat this or that dish? To go to this or that playground? Soon, all this will belong to the "past." Will JR know any different if I did not take her to one "last" cooking class? Will she know any better if I chose not to do the boat tour? Will she miss the water park if we do not make it there? Will she miss any of it, or would it be all in my mind? 

So how do I say goodbye knowing that I do not know when I will be back again? How do I respond to JR when she asks, "When can we come here again?" How do I turn the page? close the chapter? end the book? Will a simple "goodbye" be enough?

Soon I will hand over the keys to the apartment that was home for over 5 years and with that say goodbye to what is and render it what was. Soon new things will be our reality and life will return to "normal" again. But between now and then, the transition remains. The path to the future is tied to the road of the past. The thread that ties me to "this" life here and now may wear thin over the coming years but it won't break. "Goodbye" is not for always; it is for now.