An unidentified, sometimes imperceptible,
sometimes heart-piercing, feeling of void
fills the moment we say
|A Moment Before Goodbye - Copyright © Miguel Darco|
The hours and minutes before leaving are spent wishing we had parted already. Yes. An intense discomfort of the heart makes us wish we wouldn't have to go through it; it makes us wish we could be yellow enough not to have to face all that, and it makes us wish we could run off and hide someplace.
The hours before are lived like a ritual, as if we were headed for the gallows, as if we knew that what we have now will never be again. It might not be the last time we see the person or the place we are leaving, but they will not be the same. Neither will we.
A missing tree will make all the difference. A whiter hair will change everything because they are expressions of deeper events in the geology of our soul and of the place's soul.
I was weeping because Richard Parker left me so unceremoniously.
It broke my heart. [...]
After all we had been through, it didn't even look back.[...]
I suppose in the end, the whole of life becomes an act of letting go.
But what always hurts the most is not taking a moment to say goodbye.
I know Richard Parker's a tiger, but I wish I had said, "It's over. We survived. Thank you for saving my life. I love you, Richard Parker. You'll always be with me. May God be with you."
Life of Pi