Fond Farewell

Monday afternoon, Andrew and I waved a reluctant goodbye to Steve and final farewell to Alaska. The week leading up to our blue-sky departure was trimmed with sentimental exchanges and sweet recollections for our adventure in the last frontier. At school, Andrew‘s friend Brandon retreated to a corner of the classroom and sobbed into his sweat shirt, saying that he had never had such a good friend leave him. At home, Andrew sniffled while saying bed-time prayers, reflecting on the friends and teacher he would never see again. My Hoonah comrades and I treated the anticipated good-byes as those reminiscent of the last day of summer-camp -- quickly swapping addresses along with heartfelt promises to stay in touch. I pray that we do.

On Andrew’s last day of school, Mrs. Bidiman held a going away party for him. They gobbled down ice cream, enjoyed free time, and played math games; Andrew’s favorite. The class presented him with individual letters and a gift of a hard cover dictionary and encyclopedia. Andrew also wrote a letter to his class. He disclosed his thanks for making him feel so welcomed and he listed memories or traits by which he will remember them. He wrote a sweet letter to Mrs. Bidiman and attached a pouch full of Forget-Me-Not seeds, Alaska’s state flower. He felt it would be something to remind her of him when they bloom. Andrew grew in so many ways this school year. It was a joy to watch him blossom. He was truly blessed to have such a loving class and a teacher who encouraged him to have a fun and love learning.

We extended the school send-off and brought the fun to our house. For three hours the “boys only party” played war. It was raucous, rough and resourceful; for in addition to the one “Clone” Nerf gun, two “Light Sabers,” two plastic guns, they boys asked for wooden kitchen spoons, just to make sure everyone had a tool of protection and/or destruction. (As a female all this “battling” stuff is foreign to me). The combat halted only twice; the first time was a momentary energy-refuel with pizza, french fries and banana-split ice cream cake and the second seize –fire came when Andrew performed his most recently perfected piano pieces. The later being a welcomed flash of refinement in the chaos…very James Bond-esque.

I was given my own bon voyage gathering Sunday afternoon. My group was not exclusive to gender and we did not wage war, but the invite list did read like a Canterbury Tales program with a couple of festive “extras.” We noshed on yummy food, drank wine and, like Andrew, I threw in a little music. By request, I sang my La Boheme aria for the heckling crowd. The hostess of the party, Lynn, even provided me with a hot-pink and purple mock boa/scarf. Steve played a very convincing Marcello.

We relished our last moments in Hoonah. I took more sunset pictures, had long dreamy- eyed conversations with Steve and tried to memorize every sensation and image of this place. There are things unique to Hoonah that I will miss. There are people that I wish I could pack up and take home with me…some probably hoping I would. Yet, I don’t believe I will ever regret leaving Hoonah, just as I didn’t regret leaving Medford. For me, the world is so vast, and people are so many and my gypsy soul wants to keep moving on; to breathe, see, smell and experience every quirky and glorious aspect of this world --- I hope to welcome all the new adventures and the growth and gifts that come from the meeting unexpected with hopeful anticipation. I get excited just thinking about the realm of possibilities. Here is to our next adventure.